Gezegend
by Mizvoy
Summary: Summary: Late in season six, Voyager comes across what seems to be an ideal planet for trade and shore leave, but they arrive at the worst possible moment and scramble to escape with all hands on board—including the captain. J and C friendship.
1. Chapter 1

__Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager and its characters belong to CBS/Paramount. No infringement intended.

_Gezegend_ by mizvoy

Summary: Late in season six, Voyager comes across what seems to be an ideal planet for trade and shore leave, but they arrive at the worst possible moment and scramble to escape with all hands on board—including the captain. J and C friendship.

A/N: Gezegend means "richly blessed" in Dutch; I'm using it here as a noun.

I.

"Who would think that a skinned knee would hurt this much," Kathryn Janeway muttered under her breath.

She leaned on Harry Kim's shoulder as they struggled through the winding streets of the Broden's capital city surrounded by hundreds of citizens who were also fleeing from the battle that had erupted at the government center. She and Harry had just arrived there, having strolled through the open market, and had paused to admire the white façade of the government buildings when all hell broke loose, a blinding flash, an enormous explosion, a thundering mob of people pushing them away from the square and back into the city streets. Their Broden escorts evaporated, either injured or pulled away by the throng, and neither of them knew where they should go for help.

"When we find a safe place, I'll take a look at your knee," Harry promised. He glanced back at the flames that were reaching into the sky as the government buildings burned. Although the billowing smoke obscured the sun, the fire lit up the streets with a blood red glow. The captain's injury was slowing them down, so he led her down a promising side street and then into a shadowed alley where they could catch their breath.

"Did you see anyone we know?" she wondered. He led her behind a stairway that jutted into the alley and watched her sag against the wall in a spot that was hidden from the street. "Ayala? Tuvok?"

"Nobody. They must have been pretty far away, maybe even at the military compound, before the battle started." He watched her lean over and pick at strands of shredded uniform that were caught in the sticky wound.

She slid down the wall to the ground and stretched her injured leg in front of her. "Could you tell whether anyone was following us?"

"Not in that chaos, but I don't think so. That attack was too big and organized to have anything to do with our presence on the planet. It must have been planned for months." He looked toward the opening of the alley, worried. "Just let me take a quick look, to be safe."

Harry crept to the end of the ally and studied the crowd flowing past. No one seemed at all interested in the strange aliens in their presence. No one slowed down to wonder why Harry wasn't running for safety, too. Returning, he crouched in front of her. "Everyone's too busy getting out of the line of fire to worry about us." He smiled at her and looked down at her leg, reaching for the tricorder at his belt. "Let me see why this knee hurts so much."

"That won't work any better than our commbadges do," she predicted. While he was gone, she'd stripped off her jacket and had torn off a piece of her shirt to use in wiping away the sticky blood that had soaked through her slacks and was now trickling down her leg. "That bright flash just before the first explosion probably disabled every electronic device for miles around."

"You're probably right, but I'll give it a try." Harry flipped open the tricorder and sighed when the screen remained black. "Dead."

"I wish we had a medkit with us." She looked up at him with a glimmer of worry in her eyes. "I think there's a fragment or a rock inside the wound."

"Let me look." Harry gently twisted her leg and saw a round smooth object imbedded in the skin. "It looks like the head of a nail. Do you want me to pull it out?"

Kathryn nodded. She gritted her teeth as he found a good position, draping her leg over his knee to give him a better view. She handed him another piece of her uniform to help him get a firm grip on the flat top of the small object before he looked at her again for permission. "Just get it over with, Harry," she ordered through gritted teeth. "My knee will feel better once it's out of there."

Pushing his fingertips into the wound, he tried to grasp the top of the object, ignoring her groans and focusing on what he had to do. When the object refused to come straight out, he wrapped his left arm around her trembling leg and then twisted the object back and forth until it popped loose with a sucking noise. Kathryn twisted so she could lie flat on the ground as he examined the thin piece of metal, noticing that it had barbs evenly spaced along the shank. He held it up in the dim light for a closer look.

"This is projectile of some sort," he told her, "maybe released by one of the exploding devices that hit the plaza."

"Harry," she whispered, reaching to grasp his arm. "I can't feel my leg."

He looked down at her knee, amazed at the amount of blood that was streaming out of the wound, and then turned to look at her just as she vomited. Scrambling out of the way, he said, "Captain? What's happening?"

A sheen of sweat glistened on her face as she looked up at him and drew the back of her hand across her mouth. "The projectile must have been a weapon. I must have delivered some sort of drug, don't you think? Or maybe poison?"

"On the projectile," he finished her thought for her, sick with fear. He wrapped the tiny spike in the cloth and shoved it into the tricorder holster on his belt. The EMH would need a sample of the drug so that a proper antidote could be administered. "You didn't pick this up when you fell, Captain. I think that first explosion must have sent these out like shrapnel."

"You're probably right." She pushed herself up so that she was leaning against the wall again, but her face was pasty white. "Good thing you were behind me, so one of them didn't hit you."

"I'm thinking that you didn't trip and fall, after all."

"No, you're right. I was hit in the knee, and then I fell."

Harry's fear increased. "I wish I could sterilize the wound."

"Just wrap it tightly," she suggested, her eyes glazing over. "Use the bottom part of my slacks for a bandage."

Harry worked quickly, ripping off the hem of her slacks and fashioning it into a bandage large enough to cover the wound and then binding it in place with longer narrow strips. The material was shiny with blood by the time he finished, and the captain was deathly pale. "You're losing a lot of blood, Captain."

"Maybe all the bleeding will keep the wound from becoming infected." Her voice was slightly slurred and her eyes glassy. What she didn't say, but what they were both thinking, was that the toxin was already in her bloodstream and flowing throughout her body. Without help from their EMH, chances were good that she wouldn't live long enough to die from an infection.

At that moment, the conflict on the street escalated, sending smoke and noise billowing down the alleyway like a storm front. They both ducked as another explosion rocked the area and flaming debris floated down from the sky. Harry hovered over her to protect her from the falling ashes, but there was nothing he could do to rid them of the smoke that filled the air. It was becoming more and more difficult to breathe.

"We need to get out of the open." He peered over the stairs toward the end of the alley.

"I don't think I can walk, Harry."

"No, but I want to see what's going on before we find a place to hide." He crept to the end of the alley and peeked into the empty street that had gone eerily silent. The pavement was littered with injured people who were either moaning or lying deathly still. He could hear small arms fire from the battle that was just a few blocks away. They were running out of time. Soon, foot soldiers would come along the street killing or capturing anyone who escaped the initial explosion. He didn't want to find out what they would do to alien hostages.

Hurrying back to her side, he said, "Captain, how are you feeling?"

"Worse." She shook her head and looked down at her legs. "I can't feel or move that leg from the waist down, and I think I have a fever."

"We need to get out of here."

"I can't move, Harry."

"Then I'll carry you."

"No, Harry, don't." She pushed his hands away. "I'll just slow you down. Help me find a safe place to hide, and then you go look for help. Maybe you'll be able to contact Tuvok or Ayala. Once you find them, you'll be able to find a way to call the ship and have me transported to sickbay."

"I'm not leaving you."

"You have to go." Her eyes lost focus for a moment before she shook her head and narrowed her eyes. "That's an order, Mr. Kim."

He was about to protest when they heard shouts and weapon's fire from the street. A quick look over the stairs revealed the shadows of people who were running past the alley. The battle had caught up with them.

"Look for the aliens," a man shouted, stopping so that his silhouette was visible against the flames that consumed the buildings on the other side of the block. "The leaders want to take them hostage, use them for leverage against the government."

The shouted reply was muffled.

"We've got to find a safe place to wait this out," Harry decided, taking a moment to study the area. Another staircase faced them, but this one had a doorway on the side that led down a few steps to a cellar. Deciding that finding a place to hide was their best bet, he lifted Kathryn from the ground and carried her down the steps and though a narrow door that lead to a tiny well-organized storeroom. Leaving her slumped against the wall, he pushed the door shut and pulled the shades closed on the windows.

What he found was a deserted studio apartment. There was a sofa pushed against a wall, an overstuffed chair, a couple of end tables, all surrounded by boxes. In the back of the room was an area that had once been a kitchen, but the sink and appliances were long gone. Two doors in the rear wall lead to a closet full of what looked to be bicycle parts and a tiny bathroom with a working sink and toilet.

He helped Janeway to the sofa and lowered onto it, lifting her swollen leg carefully onto the cushions. He scrounged around to find a blanket to cover her and then began piling boxes between the sofa and the wall to provide them some cover. He had just returned to her side when she looked up at him, panic in her eyes.

"I'm going to be sick again," she mumbled. He scrambled to get an empty box for her to throw up into and then helped her lie back again.

Alarmed, Harry quickly doused some cloth scraps in cool water and used them to wipe her clammy face clean. He froze when he heard someone walking in the alley just outside their windows.

"Captain, we have to be quiet," Harry warned, wishing he had a phaser in case someone burst through the flimsy door. "They're right outside searching the alley."

"I'll be quiet." She closed her eyes and covered them with her arm.

"Just stay still." He placed another box beside her in case she got sick again. "Once they leave, I'll see what else is here that we can use."

"What you need to do is go back to the beam in site and look for Tuvok."

"All in good time."

"Or maybe just call the ship." Harry could tell that her condition was deteriorating. Her teeth were chattering from fever, and her mind was wandering. "Call Chakotay."

"Don't talk." He sat down beside her as the searcher's shadows fell on the window shades. He could hear their voices, but the universal translator was offline, so he didn't know what they were saying. He saw a shadow moving toward the door when a shout came from the alley and all of the searchers quickly disappeared. Long moments passed before Harry relaxed a bit.

"We're safe for now." Kim glanced at her, noticing that she was shivering, and placed a hand on her forehead. "You're burning up with fever."

"Chakotay." Her voice was raspy, her breathing labored. When she looked at him her eyes were glassy and unfocused. "He'll know what to do."

He nodded, not really listening. She'd obviously forgotten that their commbadges and tricorders had been disabled. "First, I'll have to find a working communication device."

"Chakotay," she repeated, gripping his arm. "Call him."

"That first explosive device shorted out anything electronic in this part of the city," he reminded her. "I'd like to find a working communications unit or look for Tuvok and Ayala, but I shouldn't leave you."

"No, don't worry about me. You have to get help, Harry."

"Do you think they could have gotten to the beam in site from that military base?"

"Ask Chakotay. He'll know." She licked her cracked lips and shook her head, trying to clear her mind. "He's the finest first officer I've ever worked with, Harry. The best." She shifted slightly, her eyes drooping. "Tell him it's dark and cold. We need a fire. And coffee."

He almost laughed until he looked down and saw the blank look in her eyes. "Captain?"

"He'll be good. A good captain. Don't worry. You'll see."

"Who'll be a good captain? Chakotay? You're the captain." He helped her find a comfortable position, rolling a blanket to make pillow. Her condition was getting worse, and he realized that he needed to do something to help her, either find sympathetic aliens or track down the away team. "I'll get you set up, wait until the battle cools off, and then I'll go look for Tuvok."

"Voyager." She grabbed his arm. "Call and tell Chakotay that they might try to take the ship."

"Yes, Captain." He extricated himself from her grasp and quietly looked through the room, finding a couple of water bottles to place beside her, more clean blankets, and a few containers of something that looked like crackers. He helped her drink some water before he covered her with a blanket. "If you wake up and I'm gone, I'll be back, Captain. Just stay here and be quiet."

"Don't waste time on me, Harry. Voyager is in danger."

"We're not about to leave you behind."

"Just go. And tell him." She struggled to sit up, finally giving up and leaning on her elbow as tears welled in her eyes. "Tell Chakotay that I know he can do anything . . . whatever has to be done. And tell him," she paused, struggling to make her eyes focus on Harry's face, "tell Chakotay that my last thoughts . . . were of him. Promise me."

"You can tell him." Harry fought back panic as he helped her lie back down. "When we get back to the ship."

"Promise me, Harry. Promise to tell him." She closed her eyes. "My last thoughts. Tell him."

"Okay, I promise that I'll tell him. But you're not going to die on me, understand? Captain?"

He received no reply, for the captain had lapsed into unconsciousness.

-to be continued-


	2. Chapter 2

II.

"What just happened?" Chakotay demanded as he emerged from the turbolift. The red alert had awakened him from a deep sleep an instant before he'd been called to the bridge. It was a good thing that he'd fallen asleep in his uniform.

Rollins looked up from the operations console. "There was some sort of explosion in the capital city and we've lost contact with the away team."

"Lost contact?"

"There was a tremendous power surge right before the explosion," Rollins explained. "I think it must have disabled most electronic devices in the capital city, including our commbadges. I can't get any of the governmental offices to respond either."

Chakotay sat down in his bridge seat and rubbed his face. It was nearly two in the morning ship's time, and he'd thought he could take a couple of hours to catch up on his sleep while the captain negotiated for some shore leave with people she assured him were friendly. So much for that idea. "How about sensors? Can we find our people that way?"

"Negative, sir. The subsequent explosion polarized the surrounding atmosphere. All we can see in the area is the flare of continuing weapons fire all through the central city."

Chakotay groaned and pulled up the sensor scans on his console. Sure enough, most of the capital appeared as a white blank with bright flares of phaser fire bursting through. With time, the polarization would fade, but, in the meantime, the away team, including the captain, was in the midst of that blank white space. He didn't want to speculate about their conditions.

"The explosion occurred near the captain's beam down site, right?"

"Yes, sir, within a few city blocks of it. The last time I could see them, she and Harry were just arriving at what looked to be the center of the first big blast."

"Great. Just great. What about Tuvok? Didn't he and Ayala split off and go somewhere else?" He twisted in his seat to look up at Lieutenant Andrews at tactical.

"They were on their way to one of the Broden military facilities to look at supplies, sir."

"And this was outside of the capital city?"

"On the outskirts of the city, about five kilometers north of the captain's location."

"Can we talk to them?"

Rollins shook his head. "No, sir."

"Five kilometers." Chakotay turned back to his console and had the computer draw a five kilometer circle around the captain's last known position. It was well within the blank sensor zone. "Did she know where Tuvok was going? Because, if she did, it would make sense for her to head for Tuvok's location."

"I don't even think Tuvok knew the exact location, sir."

"Where was he the last time we heard from him? Send it to my console." A red flashing dot appeared inside the polarized section, as he'd feared. "How wide is this polarization, Rollins?"

"Sixteen kilometers in diameter, more or less."

Chakotay groaned. "So, he and Ayala are caught up in this, too." He took a moment to think. "Can we reach Minister Tdrem? Wasn't that the name of the diplomat that set up this visit?"

"I've been trying to reach him," Rollins replied. "From what I can tell—"

"Let me guess," Chakotay interrupted. "He was inside that sixteen kilometer ring of fire, too."

"Yes, sir."

Addressing no one in particular, Chakotay wondered, "Even when we find a nice planet with friendly aliens, they turn out to be on the verge of some sort of revolution. Rollins, continue to try to contact someone on the surface who can help us find our people. Andrews, let's be on the lookout for Broden ships who might not like us hanging around during an insurrection."

The bridge fell into a practiced routine. Rollins quietly continued in his efforts to contact the Broden government, while Andrews monitored the ongoing battle and scanned for any signal that might be from their crew. As time passed, Chakotay tried not to let his growing alarm show, but after an hour, he was ready to take action.

"It might be time to take a closer look," he began, thinking that he could send a shuttle into a lower orbit for a better scan of the surface.

"Commander?" Andrews looked up from his console. "Six Broden fighters just left their orbital station and are headed toward Voyager."

"Can we talk to them?" he demanded, standing up.

"Opening hailing frequencies," Rollins answered.

"Their weapons are armed, Commander," Andrews added, keeping his voice low.

"Of course they are." Chakotay rubbed his face again. "Broden vessels, this is Commander Chakotay, in command of Voyager. Please explain your aggressive actions."

"Alien vessel. We speak for the Broden people. A holy war has begun on our planet that must not be interfered with. Your presence is considered an aggressive act. Break orbit immediately or you will be considered an enemy of the Broden."

Chakotay crossed his arms. "Our only interest in the battle is the retrieval of our away team which was caught in the initial explosion. As soon as we retrieve them, we'll gladly leave."

"Negative. Leave orbit at once. You have thirty seconds to comply." The communications link was terminated.

"Commander, they are targeting the ship."

"Shields up. Battle stations." Chakotay gripped his hands behind his back. "Just how much damage can they do to us?"

"Singly, not much. But there are six of them, and at least a dozen more are scrambling on the station."

Chakotay sighed. "Tom, take us out of orbit, but stay within sensor range."

"Yes, sir."

Rollins looked up in frustration. "Are those ship affiliated with the government or the rebels?"

"At this point, it's impossible to tell," Chakotay replied, collapsing in his chair. "But I'm guessing that neither side is willing to trust us, if this is, in fact, a holy war."

B'Elanna Torres' voice came across the intercom. "Engineering to bridge."

"Go ahead, B'Elanna."

"That energy pulse on the planet has actually begun to cause the ship some minor problems."

"Like what?" Chakotay demanded.

"Shield emitters are unable to maintain full power, and the phaser targeting system is going on and offline."

"How long until you can fix them?"

"Two hours. Maybe three."

Chakotay groaned. "Your timing is bad, Lieutenant."

"I just thought you should know that this isn't the best of times to get into a fight, sir."

"Noted, Lieutenant." He turned back to Andrews. "Now that we've left orbit, are the six ships still in pursuit?"

"They are following us."

"Go to full impulse, Tom. With our shields faltering, the last thing we need is for them to take a shot at us."

"Aye, Commander."

The bridge was silent as the planet became smaller and the pursuing vessels turned into small blips on the view screen. But every person was thinking of the four members of the crew that were still on the planet.

Three hours later, when Voyager was sitting outside the Broden's planetary system, Chakotay met with his senior officers in the conference room.

"How's that glitch, B'Elanna?" Chakotay asked. "Are we back at full power?"

"I think we've fixed everything, sir."

"That's good, because I have a feeling we might have to have to head back to the planet with phasers firing." Chakotay turned to Rollins. "Any contact from the planet?"

"I finally got hold of someone who is on their diplomatic corps. He wasn't located in the capital city, but from a government installation just west of there, in the mountains. He said that Tdwen hadn't been heard from since the first explosion."

"So he might be dead." Chakotay closed his eyes. Had the captain and Harry been with him? "Okay, so what did you find out?"

"The rebel leader has taken over the capitol building and the surrounding area of the city. He says he has most of the government in custody, including the senior military officers. The person I talked to said that information was sketchy, at best."

"Any mention of our away team?"

"Negative, Commander. I don't think he knew there was an away team on the planet."

"Let's hope they escaped," B'Elanna replied.

"Let's hope they're still alive," Tom Paris countered with a grimace on his face.

"Everything sounds pretty fluid, but I'd think that the rebels would be crowing about holding the aliens captive. We're going to assume that our people escaped serious injury from the blast and are doing whatever they can to contact us," Chakotay gave Tom a warning look to silence his negative outlook. "In the meantime, our job is to start looking for them and to be in a position to get them out of there at the first opportunity." He glanced around the table. "I'm willing to listen to any feasible plan."

"The six Broden vessels have retreated to their orbital base, as you know, but we know now that the base is in rebel hands. I'm pretty sure that they will confront us if we approach the planet again," Andrews reported. "I was thinking they might not feel as threatened if we sent a shuttle or even Neelix's little ship to do some closer scans."

Chakotay turned to Neelix. "How soon can your ship be ready to go?"

"I keep it ready, Commander. Ten minutes, fifteen tops. No more than that."

"Bridge to shuttle bay. Prepare one shuttle and Neelix's ship for immediate departure and stand by for further instructions." Chakotay looked around the room. "In case our shuttle is threatened, we'll have Neelix's ship that we can fall back on."

"Just a simple approach?" Paris asked, already imagining how he would pilot the shuttle. "Like I'm out for a Sunday drive?"

Chakotay nodded. "No reason to be sneaky. We're going to tell them we're looking for our four crew members, that's all."

"I think the Broden's government officials would understand and accept that," Rollins added. "It's the rebels we have to worry about."

"Maybe we should go over the rebel situation again," Chakotay suggested.

Andrews dutifully summarized Tuvok's assessment of the Broden political situation. They had lived in peace for the last one hundred years, but their ruling party always had a healthy opposition and a tradition of frequent coups d'etat to change their leadership. "Tuvok said that they believe their gods use these insurrections to make necessary corrections to their leadership and policy."

"That means they aren't fighting over whether or not they should be dealing with visiting aliens," Chakotay added. "Once things settle down and we earn their trust, they should allow us retrieve the away team without too much complication, no matter which side we are dealing with."

"How do you explain the six ships that came after us?" B'Elanna wondered. "Seems like someone didn't want us around."

"They were just making sure we didn't take sides," Chakotay guessed. "Early in a rebellion, both sides are vulnerable to a third party's intervention. Since we've had no interaction with the rebels, they didn't know how we'd react. Let's hope that our withdrawal will be interpreted as neutrality and that we can open a dialogue with them."

"While we're also talking to the other side?" Rollins asked.

"I'm talking to whoever will listen and I'm not going to hide that fact from either side. We have to convince these people that we are neutral and simply trying to recover our crew members." Chakotay stood up, bringing the meeting to an end. "We can't wait any longer. Tom, take a security team with you. Don't do anything to give them the impression that you intend to fire a shot."

"Yes, sir." Tom turned to Andrews. "Could you have two of your people meet me in the shuttle bay?"

While Tom and Andrews discussed who Tom would take along and how he should approach the planet, Chakotay pulled Neelix aside. "If it looks like Tom's going to have problems, I'm going to have to ask you to try to look for them, instead."

Neelix nodded. "I'm more than ready to do whatever I can to help, Commander. You know that. I'm worried sick about the away team."

"So am I, Neelix. That's why I want to work as quickly as possible to get everyone back and get the hell out of here."

When the meeting broke up, B'Elanna stayed behind to talk with Chakotay, who had turned to gaze out the window, deep in thought. She thought he looked tired and knew that he was worried about what might happen when the shuttle approached the planet.

"You want to go look for them yourself, don't you?" she asked him.

He saw her reflection in the window. "That's what the first officer is supposed to do, isn't it? Head up the away team?"

"But you didn't head up this away team. The captain did."

"Don't remind me."

"It's counterproductive to be angry because the captain went down there against your better judgment," she commented, "and yet you are angry."

"Damned straight." He gripped his hands behind his back. "What was I thinking? When have we ever had the good luck of running into helpful, peaceful people? 'The minister is so earnest and kind,' she told me, 'and I'm pretty much the governmental leader of the ship.'"

"They did seem to be perfectly harmless."

"She is just so damned hard headed."

"No one could have guessed that something like this revolution would happen just now."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Chakotay wondered, as he turned to look at her.

"What's happened isn't your fault."

"Really? Anything could have happened to them. They could have died in the first explosion. They could be injured and in need of medical help. They could have been taken captive and tortured."

"And they could be safe and secure and waiting for the cavalry to arrive."

He rolled his eyes and collapsed into his chair. "I guess it's the not knowing that drives me crazy."

"Yeah, I know. It's the same thing that bothers the captain when you're the one missing."

He shook his head. "I just want some answers."

"We'll get them. In the meantime, the captain and Harry are together. That's a good thing."

"And Tuvok and Ayala are together, too. I imagine that they're all trying to contact us."

"It's always worse for you when the captain is missing, isn't it?" She stepped closer to him, searching his face. "Same for her. It's okay to admit that."

He pursed his lips and lowered his eyes, unhappy that one of his closest friends was broaching a topic—his relationship with the captain—that he considered off limits. "She likes to tease me by saying, at times like this, that I just want to take her job. But, trust me, I don't want it. I am happy being the first officer of this ship."

B'Elanna sighed. Even at times like this, when he most needed reassurance, he was unwilling to discuss how close he and the captain were. "You're dodging the question, you know."

"What question?" He swiveled in his chair and looked out the window again so she wouldn't see the fury in his eyes. "If we were in Federation space, she wouldn't even be down there."

"And you wouldn't be her first officer."

"I'd be dead or in jail, probably," he chuckled, "and she would be someone else's problem."

"And you would never have gotten to know her."

His face darkened with sorrow. "Maybe I'd be better off."

"You don't really believe that." She leaned against the window ledge so she could see his face. "I know you two are close friends, don't try to deny it, and that fact makes this situation more stressful."

"We're all friends on this ship, B'Elanna," he answered, giving her a level look. "After all the years we've served together, it's only natural that we're close. I'm worried about all four of them."

She sighed in resignation. "All right. If that's the way you want to play this."

He leaned forward in the chair and rubbed his face. "Your point?"

"No point. I just thought you might want someone to talk to, that's all."

"I appreciate your concern, but there's no reason to panic yet. We've lost track of the away team, that's all. They're probably just lying low, waiting to get in touch with us."

"You're probably right." She rubbed her hands together and turned to leave, stopping just as the door opened. "I just thought it was odd that you ran the whole meeting from your usual seat instead of taking the head of the table, where the captain sits. That's all."

As the door closed, Chakotay felt a blush crawl up his neck. He hadn't realized what he'd done, hadn't thought about where he was sitting.

"Perception is everything when you're in command," Kathryn had lectured him. "When I'm gone, I want you to act the part, accept all the privileges of the rank."

Of course the senior staff would notice that he didn't sit at the captain's seat, the head of the table. He needed to do better when she was gone and when the crew was unsettled. He was acting as the ship's captain, both here and on the bridge, until the captain safely returned.

For a brief moment, the chill of fear crept up his spine. What if she wasn't all right? What if she didn't return? Had she been injured in the blast? Was she still alive? He shook his head, refusing to let such negative thoughts influence his actions.

"Just take one step at a time," he muttered under his breath, his eyes focused on the empty chair she normally occupied.

"Paris to Chakotay. We're just about ready to go, Commander."

"Very well, Lieutenant," he replied as he strode toward the bridge. "Be careful. Remember that we are not there to participate in the battle. We're just trying to retrieve our crew."

"I'll bring them back, sir."

"I know you will, Tom."

He walked across the bridge to his seat, glancing briefly at the captain's empty chair. He could see Kathryn sitting there, smiling at him, letting him know that she trusted him with her ship, her crew, her life. He wished there were some way to tell her that they were doing all they could do rescue them, but then he really didn't need to tell her. She would know that.

"Let's keep in contact with the shuttle, Mr. Rollins."

"Aye, Commander."

Chakotay forced himself to take a relaxed pose, even though his heart was pounding and his hands were clammy. Long hours had passed since the violent outbreak on the planet and night had fallen over the region, but none of the away team members had been able to contact the ship. And he was sending three more people into danger in an attempt to find and rescue them. He hoped that the sick feeling in his gut was the result of worry and exhaustion and not a sign of impending doom.

One thing was for sure. In the future, he would argue more forcefully that the captain stay on the ship and let him deal with these first contact situations, even when the planet seemed peaceful and welcoming.

Out here, in the Delta Quadrant, any situation could go to hell in an instant, just as this one had.


	3. Chapter 3

III.

"I don't know what I was expecting to see when we finally got here," Mike Ayala said as he and Tuvok crept closer to the government center that had been the focus of the initial rebel strike. They crouched behind a crumbling wall that afforded them a clear view of the battle zone. Littered with dead bodies and moaning injured, its colorful mosaic surface was marred with bomb craters and smoking piles of debris. "Maybe I thought the captain and Harry would be hanging around with a working communication device so we could beam up to Voyager."

"An illogical expectation," Tuvok replied.

The day had started on a happy note. Ayala had been thrilled to be included on the away team, anxious to visit the planet's surface after too many weeks and months inside Voyager's hull. He'd heard that Broden was as close to Earth as any planet they'd visited in the Delta Quadrant, and he was more than ready to breathe fresh air and feel the sun on his face.

He hadn't been disappointed. He, Tuvok, Harry Kim, and the captain had beamed down to a small park that was next to the farmer's market. The sight of all the fresh vegetables, the smell of cooked food, the colors of the awnings, and the press of vendors and customers had been a balm to his soul, a reminder of his childhood home, the home that the Cardassians had so cruelly erased from existence.

He envied Janeway and Kim for having the opportunity to walk through the market, but there was no help for it. He and Tuvok were there to visit a nearby military installation with the hope of finding compatible technology to repair Voyager's weaponry.

He climbed into a ground vehicle and watched the scenery as it passed him by, an urban environment like countless others he'd visited over the years. The streets were lined with businesses and homes, the sidewalks busy in areas of commerce, nearly empty around the residences. He saw a schoolyard, full of excited children, and he saw temples of two varieties, one type built of white stones and huge glass windows, the other type of red brick and narrow slots of glass, like rifle ports in the side of a fort.

Tuvok sat beside him in the middle of the transport's back seat, but he was busy conversing with their three escorts. The comments had to do with security measures, types of weapons used, and the fact that their people had never encountered hostile aliens. Ayala had frowned at that remark, for Voyager had found more hostility than friendship in their six years in the quadrant.

"What's this?" the driver said, bringing the vehicle to a stop. Ahead of them, a large building loomed, no doubt their destination. "It's gone quiet, and I don't see anyone in the guard tower."

Both Ayala and Tuvok were immediately on alert. Mike noticed that a residence beside them was surrounded by a low, thick brick wall which would provide them with some measure of protection should the vehicle come under attack. He leaned back and nodded toward it so that Tuvok would see it. With a look, they agreed that the wall would be their first safe place.

"I'll get out and look," said the other Broden in the front seat as he opened the door.

Then, somewhere behind them, a brilliant white light bathed everything around them, wreathing the vehicle's radio in blue lightening and eliciting a whine that could only mean a complete breakdown of their communication devices.

"Now," Tuvok whispered, pushing Ayala toward the vehicle's door.

They spilled out onto the street, regained their balance, and headed for the protective wall just as a thunderous explosion occurred near the city's center. Seconds later, guerillas poured from the surrounding buildings and streets, mowing down their three escorts and blowing up the transport in a fiery blast. The two Starfleet officers crawled along the wall toward an alley and wedged themselves behind a trash dumpster to wait out the attack.

They quickly discovered that their commbadges and tricorders no longer functioned.

"What the hell happened?" Ayala wondered. "Some sort of rebel uprising?"

"Only time will tell," the stoic Vulcan replied, sounding unworried. But Ayala knew better. Even a Vulcan can be shaken by a near miss.

They remained in their hiding place for over an hour, until the sound of fighting faded into the distance. When they finally deemed it safe to crawl back into the open, they found the streets filled with refugees heading for the suburbs and crying for them to come along. Or, at least, that's what Ayala supposed they were saying.

"The universal translator is malfunctioning, too," Ayala sighed as he and Tuvok watched the people stream by. "But they seem to want us to come with them."

"I think we should make every effort to reconnect with the other members of the away team," Tuvok decided as he headed down the street against the flow of refugees who looked at him as if he were crazy. "That means we head toward the battle."

Ayala glanced back at the burning military facility and then followed him. "It's going to be a long walk, Tuvok."

"We can pick up what we need along the way," the Vulcan replied. "These refugees are leaving behind their belongings, and I doubt that any of them will miss a canteen of water or a sandwich or two."

Hours later, after dodging three assault teams that seemed determined to drive the citizens from the city, they had finally reached their destination. They had seen few uninjured citizens in the last kilometer and fewer armed rebels, yet they were aware of a military presence surrounding the government buildings. They were careful to keep under cover.

"This is much more than a rebel uprising," Tuvok remarked as he studied their surroundings. "The amount of damage suggests some sort of military coup, perhaps a full-fledged holy war."

"Holy war? One of those coups that happens every hundred years or so?" When Tuvok nodded, Ayala groaned, "And it happens right after we beam down to make friends. Looks like our bad luck is holding."

"Indeed."

Ayala took a moment to access his tricorder again, hoping to find it operational. There were some promising changes in the initial dampening surge, but they were slow in appearing and had undergone subtle changes over time. "The initial overload we experienced has weakened, but now it looks like they have a dampener in effect."

"I feared they might do something like that. It is unfortunate that we can't simply scan for human lifesigns."

"I know. We'd have to spend hours wandering around out there to find them," Ayala said as he surveyed the large open area. "They could be anywhere."

"How far are we from the beam in site?" Tuvok wondered.

"I think it's about a kilometer that way." He nodded to their left. "Looks like the market the captain wanted to visit is about a quarter of the way around the plaza."

"The question is, did they linger in the market long enough to avoid being out in the open when the battle began? Were they in the plaza itself?"

"They didn't have to be in the plaza to find themselves overwhelmed by the battle. If they weren't injured in the first explosion, they would have faced the first big wave of people trying to escape and the most militant of the rebels. Hundreds of people might have stampeded through the market pushing them farther away from us."

"You're right." Tuvok moved to a higher location that allowed him a better view. He tried to imagine how the battle had progressed by studying the areas of greatest damage and the location of the bodies and the rubble. "So you think the main thrust of the battle was toward the government buildings, directly across from the market, and the refugees would have naturally run in the opposite direction."

"Let's stand over here, in the shadows," Ayala suggested as he joined Tuvok, mindful of his exposure. He noticed that no one moved among the wounded and had spied snipers in the ruined walls of the buildings that circled the plaza. "No one is out there helping, and I'm thinking the snipers want it that way."

"Snipers would not dress in red."

"What else would you call them?"

"I'm not sure why they would prevent these people from being treated for their injuries. It makes no sense to us, but it could be that we simply fail to understand the dynamics of this _jihad_."

"If our people were in the escaping masses, they would have been pushed in that direction." He pointed toward two streets that intersected the plaza to the left and then webbed out through the market and into the city.

"I think you might be right. Most of the people would have run through the market to safety. The question is this: were the captain and Harry still in the market? Were they in the middle of the plaza? Or had they already gone into the government buildings?"

"Buildings?" Ayala asked, his eyes passing over the rubble that smoldered around them. "I guess these used to be buildings. There's no way to know where they were, is there? We left them at the beam in site when we started for the base. How long were we in transit before the battle started?"

"I'd say no more than twenty minutes."

"Did they walk slowly through the streets? Or did they hurry to get to the meeting?"

Tuvok raised a single eyebrow. "I think the captain would have dawdled. She was a full hour early for the meeting with the prime minister, and it is her habit to enjoy the sunlight and the market areas on a new planet, take in the mood of the people, study their food and clothing."

"So you're guessing they were outside the building?"

"I hope they were." Tuvok didn't bother to look at the smoldering remains behind them. "I'd say the prime minister's offices were obliterated in a second or third explosion. If they were with him, they would have been lucky to survive."

"We could do a brief reconnoiter of the ruins."

"Not with those snipers taking aim at us," Tuvok shook his head. "I don't think we want to go into the open, either, Lieutenant, not tonight. No one is moving around out there."

"But the captain and Harry might be among the wounded."

"I realize that, but it would take hours to locate them, and we'd have to stop in less than an hour because the sun is about to set." He pulled out his useless tricorder again and sank down behind the wall, gesturing for Ayala to join him. "Our best hope is to scan for them."

"Is it working?"

"No, but as you suspected, there is now an active dampening field in effect."

"That's bad news," Ayala commented, pulling out his own tricorder. "Except that there has to be a field emitter somewhere nearby. If we could find it and shut it down, even for just a few minutes, we could do a quick scan and save ourselves a lot of time."

"We could also contact Voyager."

"You're right."

"I suggest we spend the next few hours trying to find the location of this emitter." He secured the tricorder in his belt. "We know that it is on the far side of the plaza from here, which means that we will need to work our way around the edge without being detected."

"Let's just hope these snipers aren't too upset with us for moving around."

"We will have to be careful."

"If they survived they blast," Ayala continued, thinking aloud, "they would have run into those streets, along with everyone else who was trying to escape the rebels' attack. They would have gone in the same direction we need to take to find the field emitter."

"Perhaps we will find them along the way." Tuvok paused to look at the setting sun. "Or, better yet, perhaps they, too, are trying to disable the emitter. I'd say we have no more than an hour before we lose the sunlight. With power still down, this whole area with be totally dark soon, except for the glow of the fires."

"We'd better get moving, then. I have to admit that I wasn't looking forward to picking through the dead and wounded. It would be hard to leave people lying there when they need help."

"Once we disable the emitter, we will find the rest of our team and get back to Voyager. Perhaps, at that point, we can come back and offer the injured the help they need."

Ayala nodded, swallowing hard. "It's just that most of these people are innocent bystanders, old people, school children, families here to enjoy the beautiful day. They were all unarmed, helpless. It's such a terrible waste."

"I believe it was a human Army general who observed several centuries ago that war is hell." The Vulcan looked around at the ruins and the casualties. "Nothing has changed in the intervening years, Lieutenant. War is still hell."


	4. Chapter 4

IV.

Harry Kim stayed beside Janeway as the battle raged on in the streets surrounding their hiding place. He made one brief foray into the alley and discovered that teams of rebels were rounding up the citizens and forcing them to leave the city, and so he retreated to the studio apartment to wait for the battle to wind down.

About mid-afternoon, the building on the other side of the alley was hit by a bomb, reducing it to ruins and shattering every window in the apartment. Luckily, he had stacked boxes and furniture between the sofa and the windows, so both he and the captain escaped injury from flying glass.

For a while, the heat and the bricks falling from burning building insured that no one would wander into the alley and search for them, but Harry wasn't sure that they were safe. He made a pallet on the floor beside the sofa and tried to get some rest. Staying low protected him from the smoke that drifted into the room. No one could see them unless they managed to get inside the apartment.

Harry checked the captain's condition on a regular basis, doing whatever he could to make her comfortable. She was still alive, although gravely ill, and he hoped that that she would hold on long enough for Voyager's doctor to treat her. Every thirty minutes or so he pulled out his tricorder with the hopes that it would be working and allow him to call for help. While the effect of the photonic pulse was waning, Harry wondered if there might be some other reason for the equipment's continuing failure.

As darkness fell, he decided that he had to leave the captain and look for help. Starfleet protocol required away teams to return to the beam in site when they were separated and unable to contact the ship, so he had high hopes that Tuvok and Ayala would be heading in their direction as long as they had survived the battle. After one last look at the captain, he crawled through one of the shattered windows and crept toward the street.

He made it less than two blocks from the alley when a group of armed rebels forced him to hide behind an overturned ground vehicle. He lay beneath the vehicle listening as the ground troops systematically scoured the buildings for survivors, herding everyone away from the center of the city. He had managed to pick up a weapon on his brief walk, but he didn't want to use it and draw attention to himself. Harry regretted not bringing some food and water with him. An hour later, as darkness fell, he was able to crawl out from under the vehicle and head back toward the alley.

"I should have stayed with her until it was completely dark," he thought over and over again as he skulked along the edge of the sidewalk, peering into the destroyed interiors before dashing past each building to another doorway. When he turned into the alley where he'd left the captain, the moonrise created an odd shimmer in the atmosphere that he hadn't seen before. Worried that there was some sort of motion sensing device in the area, he stopped and pulled out his tricorder. For the first time in hours, the readings had changed, but not for the good.

"They've activated a sensor dampener," he whispered in dismay. "That means Voyager will never be able to find us."

Hunkered down in the alley, he spent a few minutes playing with the device. Years of experience on Voyager's bridge helped him figure out that the dampener was just a few blocks past the alley in the opposite direction he'd taken. He decided that he would take a minute to check on the captain and then try to disable or disrupt the dampening field. If he was successful, Voyager would be able to lock onto their commbadges and beam all four of them to safety, even if the team was scattered around the city.

Reenergized by his plan, he closed the tricorder and gripped the alien disruptor tight as he looked up and down the alley. Things looked different in the dark, almost unrecognizable, and he had a sudden feeling of foreboding. He turned to crawl back through the window when he noticed that the apartment door was standing open.

Someone had been there.

His heart pounding, he crept through the door and into the room.

"Captain?" he cried out softly, trying not to panic. "Captain?" he repeated as he stepped around the boxes and looked at the sofa where he'd left her.

She wasn't there.

"Captain?" he said louder, looking around the room. "CAPTAIN?"

He methodically searched the small room, actually walking into every nook and cranny to make sure he didn't miss seeing her in the dim light. The only way out of the room was the door to the alley. He wondered if she had regained consciousness and wandered into the street and into the custody of either the rebels or the government troops. Perhaps some civilians had found her unconscious body and had taken her somewhere for medical care.

He told himself that either outcome would be fine. Chances were good that wherever she was, that whoever had taken her, she would be treated for the poison in her system. He hoped so. He hoped that she was still alive.

The guilt for leaving her alone was nearly suffocating. She had been so sick, so helpless, and he had been so desperate to help her that he'd left too soon. He should have waited until dark, when it would be less likely for someone to search the room. Now, she was not just sick, she was missing, and it was all his fault.

Huddling near the door, he reopened his tricorder and studied the source of the current sensor dampener. He would get something to eat and drink and then find out how he could disable the emitter. It was his only hope.

After some crackers and water, he took a deep breath and eased through the doorway. The moon had set, leaving the alley and street in near totally darkness. He relied on the glow of the embers in the destroyed buildings in the area to help him find his way. He was amazed at how easily he could move through the darkened streets and wondered what had happened to the bands of rebels he'd seen earlier. Maybe they thought they had found all the people in the buildings and moved on toward unmistakable sounds of an ongoing battle in the distance.

The fight continued. He was just behind the lines in an area that the troops thought had been secured. It was like walking through a ghost city, with every building dark and empty.

His tricorder was unable to pick up anything but the direction toward the source of the dampening field. He couldn't tell if Voyager was still in orbit overhead, nor could he pick up the distinct signal of a commbadge, not even his own.

In less than an hour, he arrived at the area that was the source of the dampening field, a dense cluster of buildings that reminded him of a college campus. He crept forward, moving from a shadowed doorway to a hedge to a small copse of trees, trying to keep himself from being detected by security forces that seemed determined to chase everyone from the area. Soon enough, he was huddled against low hedge that surrounded a darkened building. Muting the usual beep of his tricorder, he opened it and did a preliminary scan. The dampener was, in fact, somewhere inside the building.

What caught Harry's attention, however, was not just the expected emitter, but the unexpected and unmistakable evidence of another Starfleet tricorder in close proximity. In fact, the device had to be nearby if he could pick it up in spite of the dampening field.

"Tuvok? Ayala?" He looked up to find the two men crouching low and approaching his location. They greeted each other in relief and quickly explained how they had survived the battle and what they had been through in the last several hours.

Harry was obviously upset as he explained the captain's injury and disappearance. When he finished, the three men regarded each other for a few moments in silence.

"Ensign," Tuvok finally sighed, "I'm tempted to criticize you for your decision, and yet, in the press of the moment and the worry about her condition, I can understand why you left her to look for help." He glanced up at the building. "What we must do now is disable the dampening field and find the captain. We can only hope that she is still alive."

"What's the plan?" Ayala asked.

"This dampener would be very greedy for power, and I believe that there is a central power plant for these buildings that is providing that power. What we need to do is to look for power line from the power source and shut it down."

"Wouldn't they have a backup power system?" Ayala wondered.

"Yes, but there should be a lapse of time before any backup systems come online, maybe as long as several minutes," Tuvok explained. "We can use that time to contact Voyager and search for the captain's location."

"How do we know Voyager is in orbit?" Harry asked.

"I believe that the Commander will be doing something to find us." Tuvok turned to Ayala. "You and I will split up and circle the building in opposite directions, scanning for some sort of power feed as we go. Mr. Kim will remain here and be ready to provide assistance, if we need it, and will make the initial effort to contact the ship when the dampener shuts down."

"All right." Ayala gestured in one direction. "I'll go that way. What if we don't find a power source? What if it has an internal generator?"

"Then we will have to break into the building." Tuvok pulled out his disruptor. "The power feed is most likely underground. If so, look for a transformer near the base of the wall. It will be well-protected."

"And therefore easy to find," Ayala nodded. He'd come across such designs during his years with the Maquis.

Tuvok turned to Kim. "You must be prepared to scan for the captain's commbadge and contact Voyager as soon as the dampening field drops. We can hope that the emergency power will have a lapse of several minutes, but it could be just a matter of seconds."

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded, opening his tricorder.

Within moments, the simple plan was underway. Harry watched as the other two quietly crept away from him in opposite directions. He could hear the sounds of fighting in the distance, but the surrounding area remained quiet, with no sound from person, animal, or insect. Moments later he heard Ayala give a quiet shout as the dampening field shimmered out. He was in the process of hailing the ship, when he found himself caught in the familiar tingle of a Starfleet transporter. Voyager had, in fact, been looking for them.

He blinked and realized that he was standing beside Tuvok and Ayala in one of Voyager's shuttlecraft.

"I have three of them, Commander, all in good shape," Tom Paris reported as he angled the shuttle away from the planet and gained altitude. "The captain wasn't with them."

"Keep scanning for her, Tom, and move fast, before the Broden have time to attack you or reenergize dampener. When that emitter went down, both sides mobilized."

"Yes, sir." Tom nodded a greeting as Harry took over the operations console. "Any idea where we should look for her?"

"Head back toward the central plaza," Harry answered as he began working the console. "She was just a few blocks away from our location the last time I saw her."

"She wasn't with you?"

Harry shook his head. "She was injured in the initial blast."

"I was afraid of that."

Harry studied the search telemetry as Tuvok took over the security console. Harry scanned for the captain's commbadge signal while Tuvok studied the movements of the Broden ships. Ayala and the other two crew members who had come with Tom retreated to the back of the shuttle to keep out of the way and to be ready to beam to the surface, if necessary, in case Janeway needed to be retrieved physically.

"Ships are scrambling from two military bases and the orbital station," Tuvok reported. "Voyager is moving toward the planet from behind the asteroid belt."

Tom clicked his tongue. "Things are going to get sticky."

They could hear Chakotay's voice as he attempted to notify both the rebels and the government forces that his shuttle was not attacking the planet, but simply retrieving his away team. The Broden seemed to think that the damage to the sensor dampener was a prelude to an invasion.

"Are they heading toward us?" Ayala wondered.

"Yeah, with shields up and their phaser banks fully armed," Harry muttered. He tried to concentrate on his search, tried to keep his emotions under control as he did his work. Systematically, sector after sector, he scanned the surface surrounding their escape vector, gradually expanding it wider and wider.

"Two bogies approaching from the rear," Tuvok stated. "Raising shields."

"Taking evasive maneuvers," Tom chimed in as the ship banked hard to port.

"Incoming phaser fire. Brace for impact," Tuvok warned.

The ship shuddered as the phasers slammed against their shields and then pitched them hard to starboard.

"Shields down to 65%." Tuvok's reported, his voice calm. "Targeting their weapons."

Muttering in frustration, Harry continued to scan, even though the ever-intensifying battle made his job more difficult.

"Two more bogies joining in," Tuvok reported, "but they're targeting the two previous ships, not us. Shields are at 25%."

"They're taking the heat off of us just in time," Tom cried as he pulled the shuttle's nose up sharply and headed back toward the primary search area. "Come on, Harry, time's running out."

"Found her!" Harry shouted, his voice full of relief. He looked up at Ayala, who had scurried to the transporter controls. "Sending you the coordinates."

"Two more bogies are coming toward us," Tuvok warned. "We have time for one attempt, Ayala."

Tom aimed the ship toward the captain's location on a direct vector. "I'm going to swoop by, Mike. Lock on and as soon as you initiate the beam out, I'm hitting the ceiling."

"Understood," the lieutenant replied, sweat forming on his upper lip as he concentrated on his work.

"Incoming phaser fire," Tuvok announced as the shuttle rocked and dipped dangerously close to the skyscrapers beneath them. "Shields failing."

"Locking on. Beam out initiated." Mike looked back at the transporter pad. "Pattern in the buffer."

"Heading for orbit before they can target a nacelle." Tom banked the ship sharply, making everyone reach for a handhold as the inertial dampeners struggled to keep up with his wild maneuvers. The Broden's vessels were caught by surprise, and their last, deadly phaser blast narrowly missed the shuttle's port nacelle. Tom whooped in satisfaction as the shuttle sped toward high orbit and the safety of Voyager's powerful shields. "Get out the med kit, Ayala. As soon as I can, I'll check on the captain's condition."

"That won't be necessary, Tom." Harry repied, his voice full of anguish. "I picked the coordinates of her commbadge, but all we got was her uniform. The captain is still on the planet's surface."


	5. Chapter 5

V.

Chakotay was not a happy man. He had retrieved three-fourths of his away team at the cost of a shuttle that would be out of commission for at least a week while it underwent repairs, and he had been warned by the military leaders on both sides of the Broden insurrection not to approach the surface again or face an all-out attack.

"I need to talk to someone who isn't involved in waging the war," he decided, glancing around the conference table at the grim faces of the senior staff. "Someone who understands that we are innocent victims here."

"Someone who knew us before all hell broke loose," Tom agreed. "What was the name of that guy the captain talked to about visiting the planet?"

"Minister Tdren," Harry offered. "He's the one who was in charge of our meeting with the prime minister."

"Was he there when you beamed down?" Chakotay asked.

"No, sir, we were met by a military escort. Tdren was with the prime minister." Harry picked up his tricorder. "I still have his contact information."

"Let's hope he lived through the explosions." Chakotay nodded and stood up. "Try to hail him. If you get him, patch him through to the ready room. That will be all." He left without a word to anyone, anxious to be alone before his worry and frustration bubbled over into irrational shouting and an adolescent temper tantrum. He desperately needed some time alone to think about their problem without bearing the scrutiny of the senior staff.

Kathryn had been seriously ill when Kim had left her. Fortunately, he'd brought the small projectile with him, and the EMH had analyzed the poison as one that would be deadly to humans only in significantly larger doses than what the weapon would have delivered. While she was probably alive, she was, without doubt, unconscious, perhaps in a coma, which meant that Chakotay could not count on her to do anything to help him find her. She might have been taken to a hospital or clinic by a friendly Broden and expired there in the battle or in some sort of misguided effort to treat her. He really didn't want to contemplate the odds against her survival.

He was pacing on the upper level of the ready room when Harry contacted him with the news that Minister Tdren had survived the battle and was available to talk to him.

"Patch him through," he told the ensign as he strode down to Kathryn's desk to take the call. The Broden minister looked exhausted and had a sloppy looking bandage wrapped around his head and over one eye. "My name is Commander Chakotay. I'm Captain Janeway's second in command."

"Commander, I'm terribly sorry that your crew members were caught in this holy war. The insurrection has brought about a series of responses that must be followed in order to assure the proper outcome. The rebels are determined to empty the capital city and help us discover the will of the gods."

"Holy war?" Chakotay felt an icy fist close around his heart. "That's unfortunate for you, Minister, and unlucky for us. So far, we've been able to recover three of the four members of our crew who beamed down to your planet, but we have been unable to find our captain."

"Captain Janeway is still missing? Do you know where she was when she was last seen?"

"She was hiding in the basement of a building about four blocks from the plaza."

"That area was hotly contested and changed hands several times today. I'll see what I can find out," Tdren replied, "but that area is still caught up in the struggle. I can't promise that I'll find her."

"Whatever you can do, Minister, will be greatly appreciated." He paused a moment. "I should mention that she was injured."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I might just start by checking clinics and first aid stations, in that case. Were her injuries life threatening?"

"She was unconscious."

"All right. Give me an hour or so and I'll report back."

Chakotay stared at the blank screen for a long time after the minister broke the connection. He knew it was a long shot for Tdren to find her. Once again, he contemplated using a well-aimed phaser burst to take out the field dampener, but he knew that doing so would entangle Voyager in the battle from both sides. Voyager wouldn't survive an attack of that ferocity.

He finally decided to return to the bridge.

"Harry, have we tried scanning for human life signs?" he asked as he took his seat.

"It would be inconclusive from this distance, sir," the ensign replied, "even if the dampening field wasn't at full force again."

"When the minister contacts us again, I'll request that we be allowed to enter a low orbit and scan for a human life sign. In the meantime," he glanced around, "those of you who have been on the surface need to get some rest. Take four hours off."

"But, Commander," Kim started to protest.

"No buts, Ensign. It's an order." He shifted to face the Vulcan. "How about you, Tuvok?"

"I will take advantage of this lull in activity to rest as well, Commander. However, please awaken me when and if the minister contacts us about the captain."

"Agreed."

Time seemed to stand still. Chakotay sat on the bridge until he felt compelled to get up and move around, deciding to walk the decks as Kathryn often did when she was worried. He started on deck fifteen, the bottom of the ship, and worked his way to engineering on deck 11 after about an hour.

"I heard you were out wandering around," B'Elanna said when she saw him walk into her domain. "Have we heard anything yet?"

"Not yet." He leaned against the engineering console she was working on and heaved a sigh. "I'm tired and losing patience."

"What was it you used to tell me? Don't bite the hand that feeds you? Don't do something to make this diplomat decide not to help us."

"Not to worry."

"You're exhausted. You haven't slept in over twenty-four hours." She put a hand on his shoulder and gripped it hard. "Why not try to relax, get something to eat, put your feet up. You'll be the first one to know when the minster calls with information."

"Has it been that long?" He stifled a yawn. "Might as well, I guess."

He felt more tired with every step he took toward his quarters, yet once he was there, he found it impossible to sleep. He replicated a sandwich and hot tea and sat down where he could eat and watch the planet at the same time.

"Where are you, Kathryn?" he muttered. A few minutes later, in spite of his anxiety, Chakotay drifted off to sleep, only to be awakened less than an hour later. The minister had some news.

"Route it to my quarters," he ordered as he got up from his sofa and made his way to his desk. The minister's face appeared, but he didn't look very happy. "Did you find out anything about our captain's whereabouts, Minister?"

"I have good news and bad news, Commander. Your captain is alive and in the care of our finest physicians in a safe location. That's the good news."

Chakotay repressed the urge to shout for joy. "And the bad news?"

"The bad news is," Tdren began, his face sad, "that Captain Janeway is _gezegend_."

"She's what?"

"_Gezegend_. One of the blessed messengers."

"Just a moment." Chakotay muted the link and asked the computer to access the Broden database for the term.

*_Gezegend_ is a term that means that she is blessed as _a messenger to the gods_."

Repressing a groan, Chakotay reopened the communications link. "As I understand the term, this term _gezegend_ has a religious meaning?"

"Exactly," Tdren replied. "This rebellion seems to be a cleansing, Commander, a religious war that returns us to the base values held by every Broden on the planet. The rebels may be instruments of our gods' will in our society."

"I don't see what that has to do with Captain Janeway."

"Let me start again." Tdren composed himself, unconsciously reaching up to touch the bandage over his eye. "The theology is complex, but I will attempt to simplify it for you. The opening moments of any battle are fraught with special significance to my people because the first strike includes the use of the blessed blood of the gods."

"You mean poison." Chakotay felt as if a lead ball had just filled his stomach.

"It is the only time our people tolerate a biological element to warfare. The blessed blood lets us know which of the first casualties will be ushered into the presence of the gods so that they can bless whichever side they favor."

Chakotay nodded, trying to hide his panic. "And these are the _gezegend_, or messengers to the gods."

"That's right."

"And Captain Janeway is one of them."

"She is. Her injury was caused by the first explosion in the religious uprising."

"Which means?"

"As a sacred sacrifice, she will be cared for by our priests who will help her through the upward spiral."

"Sacred sacrifice?" he whispered.

"Her life is in the gods' hands."

"In other words, she will not be given an antidote."

"Absolutely not, Commander. In fact, there is no antidote to this drug. She is one of the most blessed of our saints. The wound cannot be treated, and she is given the elixir of Meorphr to make her journey a peaceful one."

"Give me a minute." Chakotay stood up from his desk and walked away where he could react without Tdren seeing his anguish. He was more afraid than ever that Kathryn was lost, that the Broden would never relinquish her, and his despair nearly overwhelmed him. He took some deep breaths and managed to keep from reacting emotionally before he returned to the console. "What you're telling me is that my captain is doomed and that your priests are helping her die."

"Commander, you make this sound brutal. Theirs is an act of compassion. There is no escape when one is chosen as a _gezegend_. It is an honorable, desirable responsibility. The gods have had a hand in who will be their messenger."

He wanted to shout that it was random chance, bad luck, sheer accident that his captain, an alien who had been on their planet mere minutes, had been hit by a piece of shrapnel dipped in poison, but there was no reasoning with religious beliefs, nothing to be gained from belittling them. He sighed and rubbed his face. "Our doctor might be able to devise an antidote, if you will let him examine her."

"Sir, have you heard a word I've said?" Tdren drew his robes around himself with indignation. "She is a messenger to the gods. She has been chosen to advise them regarding the outcome of this ongoing battle. The future of our planet rests in her hands. A great honor has been bestowed on her, and she will be immortalized by our people for her sacrifice."

"Perhaps if I could talk to one of the priests?"

"That is all for today, Commander," Tdren replied. "Rejoice in the fact that her death serves a noble purpose."

The screen turned dark before Chakotay could reply.

The conference room was silent after Chakotay finished explaining to the senior staff what had happened to their captain.

"We have to do something," Harry Kim cried out. "We can't just let her die."

"We're going to do something," Chakotay replied, giving Harry a reassuring look.

"Let's just take out the dampener and scan for her," Harry continued.

"Impossible," Tuvok replied with a shake of his head. "Voyager might be able to survive an attack by up to a dozen Broden ships, but we would be faced with all of their military might, from both sides."

"He's right," Chakotay agreed. "We have to work the system if we want to save her life. Doctor, have you had a chance to review the data that Tuvok and Mike brought with them? And the projectile that Kim removed from the captain's leg?"

"I have." The EMH looked proud of himself, as always. "Mr. Tuvok and Mr. Ayala wisely picked up a medical scanning device from a damaged emergency vehicle as they were escaping from the battle, and Seven managed to download a great deal of medical information for my use."

"The device was quite simple to access," the former drone snapped.

"Too bad the Borg never assimilated any of the Broden," Tom quipped, "or we could have solved this problem immediately."

"The Broden have no technology of interest to the Borg," Seven explained with a sniff of disdain.

"So, what did you find out?" Chakotay interrupted. "Is there anything that we can do to help the captain?"

"I began by analyzing the projectile that carried the poison, but I was not sure how to counteract it. The lethal human dose is much higher than what she received and that the 'window' for the antidote might be much longer than that of the Broden. However, Mr. Tuvok's medical database informed me that they have never synthesized an antidote to the poison. I don't understand why, exactly."

"It has religious significance," Chakotay reminded him. "They believe the poison is provided to them by their gods so that the_ gezegend_ can be selected in the first outbreak of hostilities."

"Even so, I have made great strides toward an antidote," the doctor said, "and should have it available within the hour."

"That's half of the problem," said the commander. "What about this elixir that assists her in the 'upward spiral'?"

The EMH frowned. "More like a downward spiral, Commander. I found the formula for the elixir in the medical database. It's used for patients who have no hope of survival. It is incredibly addictive and is irreversible unless an antidote is administered within the first few hours."

Chakotay was stunned at the news. "What are you saying? She's addicted to this pain killer?"

"Again, there is no recorded way to help a patient recover from the addiction, but I have begun to look into it. I'm hoping that human physiology is different enough to make the recovery possible," the EMH replied. "I'm hours away from having a solution. Maybe days."

Harry's face twisted with guilt. "We can still go get her and bring her back to the ship. We can administer the poison's antidote and put her in stasis until we can help her break the addiction."

"To take the captain without having a solution to the elixir is risky," the doctor disagreed. "Stasis is not totally effective when dealing with such powerful drugs. This elixir makes morphine look like candy by comparison."

"This is my fault," Harry groaned, cradling his head in his arms. "If I had just stayed with her."

"There's no way to know whether your presence would have made any difference," Chakotay disagreed. "Once the Broden realized that she is _gezegend, _they would have taken her to their priests, and, in any event, I would have done exactly what you did. We all would have." He looked around the table. "Tuvok and I have an idea that might give us access to the captain."

"We have studied the cultural database that Tdren provided us earlier," Tuvok added. "A religious war will respond better to a religious problem than to military force."

Chakotay nodded. "We've filed a petition with the priests, requesting access to the captain so that we can perform death rituals that are part of our beliefs."

"Death rituals?" Tom asked.

"Having an alien as _gezegend_ is a new development for them. The fact that the captain is serving as their messenger doesn't negate her own beliefs," Chakotay explained.

"But, what death ritual?" B'Elanna demanded.

"We're still working on that_._ In the meantime, they are considering the request and may or may not allow it."

"Maybe we will be able to beam her out, once we know where she is!" Harry exclaimed.

"I wouldn't count on that, Harry," the commander sighed. "But, if we can go to her, we might be able to administer the antidote, at the very least, and also address the addiction, if we know enough by then to help her."

The EMH nodded, although he looked doubtful. "I'll work on it without ceasing."

"Very well. We wait to hear from the priests." Chakotay stood up. "That's all for now."

Everyone filed out of the room but Harry Kim, who remained in his seat, his face hidden in his arms. Chakotay took the seat beside him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I know you blame yourself for this, Harry, but it isn't your fault. We can't do a damned thing about the past. Right now, she's alive, and what we have to focus on is finding a way to help her."

"She was so sick, Commander, so delirious before she passed out. She kept telling me to call you, even though she knew our commbadges didn't work. She repeated over and over again that you would know what to do. And then," he took a deep breath and glanced up at the first officer. "I think she imagined that she was dying. She said you would be a good captain. And she said," he swallowed back tears, "she said to tell you that her last thoughts were of you. She made me promise to tell you that, Chakotay. It was the last thing she said to me."

Chakotay nodded, so deeply affected that he was unable to speak. He stood up and walked to the window where he could hide the tears shimmering in his eyes from the young ensign. He fought the despair and hopelessness that threatened to overwhelm him and at long last cleared his throat.

"Thank you for telling me that, Harry. It means a lot."

Two hours later, Chakotay burst into Sickbay. "Doctor? I've gotten permission to see the captain."

"That's good news, Commander," the EMH replied as he emerged from the lab brandishing a hypospray. "I've just finished synthesizing a human antidote to the poison, and I have determined that we can, indeed, place her in stasis, if necessary, while I continue to search for a solution to the addiction. You can take this with you and administer it to her."

"I can't take any kind of modern technology with me." He took the hypospray into his hands. "They won't allow medical equipment into the facility, and I can't give any sort of drug to her. The priests won't allow it."

The doctor visibly wilted. "Then all is lost."

"Not so fast. Is there another way the antidote can be administered? Does it have to be given by a hypospray?"

"Well, let me think." The doctor sat down at his desk. "I suppose it could be absorbed through bodily fluids or through the air."

"So, it could be rubbed on her skin? Or dripped into her mouth?"

"Yes, if done in sufficient amounts."

"It wouldn't have a negative effect on the person who transfers it?"

"No, the antidote attacks only the poison."

"Then I know what to do." Chakotay began to describe his plan, and, as the doctor listened, he began to smile and nod in agreement.

"I think this could work, Commander," he said at last. "Give me about twenty minutes to prepare what you need."

"All right. But what about the addiction?"

"I'm still working on that. I believe that she will have sufficient blood level of the pain killer to last several hours before a crisis would occur."

"So we would have several hours before she faces withdrawal reactions." Chakotay nodded, his mind already imagining what he would do to help her. "We'll just have to deal with it when it happens."

"I'll continue to work on this while you're gone, of course."

Chakotay nodded. "I'll tell Tdren that I'll beam down in about thirty minutes."


	6. Chapter 6

Author's note: I always wondered why Janeway didn't use cloaks in the DQ. The treaty with the Romulans surely didn't apply when she was on the other side of the galaxy, and it definitely didn't apply to Neelix's Talaxian ship—at least it doesn't in this story!

VI.

The ashram, or religious retreat, was located high in the mountains near the planet's magnetic north pole, so remote and so sacred that its existence was protected by all parties of the battle that raged in the lower latitudes. The thought of approaching the ashram with any attitude other than reverence was impossible for the Broden to imagine.

Voyager had been allowed to approach the planet and take up a position outside the asteroid belt that separated the Broden home world from the outer planets of their solar system. Chakotay had come through that belt alone in the same shuttle that Tom had used when rescuing the away team, although B'Elanna had made a few essential modifications in the meantime. He landed on the opposite side of a glacier-filled valley, but within view of the ashram.

He was dressed in a white woolen robe with long, full sleeves and a hood that shadowed his face. Beneath the robe was a Starfleet-issue polar survival suit to protect him from the cold. He carried no weapon and no communication device, as the Broden insisted, but he did have a small backpack that contained the "religious" elements he would need for the captain's death ritual.

He stepped out of the shuttle and was greeted by a priest dressed in bright red robes and standing before a fragile flitter that looked to be about a hundred years old. Chakotay turned to seal the door of the shuttle, hoping that his escort didn't notice that the minimal power still running, supposedly to protect the delicate equipment from the frigid temperatures, actually powered the forward shields and the transporter system. He was relieved when the priest remained by his flitter rather than inspecting his ship.

Without a word spoken, Chakotay took his place in the flitter's "sidecar" and sent up a silent prayer that the vehicle could safely carry both of them across the glacier-filled valley.

As they flitter landed near the ashram, Chakotay was amazed by its glowing white tiles that glittered like ice crystals in the weak midday sun. The walls were high, nearly thirty meters, and the arctic winds whipped around them and bit into his face and hands. He pulled the heavy white robes closer and strode toward the gate with his face hidden in the folds of the hood and his arms deep inside his sleeves.

"Come thee to serve the spirits?" came the ritual challenge from the tower that dominated the front of the facility.

"I come with empty hands and a peaceful heart." Chakotay kept his head bowed and studied the toes of his boots, but he was fairly sure that these religious men would not realize that he was Voyager's first officer. He wanted them to believe that he was his ship's priest, there to perform the most holy of all rites. He glanced up to see several priests looking down at him from above the gate; as he hoped, there was an area large enough for a group of people to stand within sight of the shuttle. He filed that information away for later use.

The gate swung open just enough for him to squeeze through. As it clicked shut behind him, another red-robed Broden priest stepped out of the guard house.

"Do you offer a name?" he asked.

Chakotay kept his head down. "Only the spirits know my true name. Call me shaman."

"Greetings, Shaman, and come into the warmth."

They walked across a small open space and into a sparse room that was only marginally warmer than the outdoors, even though a fire burned brightly in the central fire pit. The priest led him through the room and into an alcove on the far side where he pointed at a chair and said, "Wait here," before he disappeared into an adjoining office.

Chakotay remained standing. In his backpack, he carried a white robe elaborately embroidered with silver and gold threads, a booklet of prayers, simple perfumed bath salts, and a small case with a dozen narrow plastic tubes of holy water. To the naked eye, every article was made of simple, natural materials. When the priests examined them, as they would do before he would be allowed to bring them into the presence of the _gezegend,_ they would find nothing suspicious there. At least, he hoped they wouldn't.

The priest returned and led him into the presence of an ancient priest dressed in a shimmering blood red robe, no doubt the senior priest in charge of the ashram. As he left the room, he took Chakotay's backpack with him for a closer look.

The interview was exactly what Chakotay expected it to be.

_Yes, there are special rites that the captain's people perform at their deaths, a last rite that cleanses them of their life's concerns and readies them for their entry into the spirit world. It is only proper that she be given these rights. _

_Yes, the tears of the gods would have to be dripped into the wound and into her eyes and mouth, but nothing more would be done to the injury. _

_Yes, the gezegend would have to be bathed in perfume and dressed in a special gown which he had brought with him for her presentation to their gods._

_Yes, prayers would be read and chants sung over the _gezegend_'s body. _

"There is one last step," Chakotay concluded, "and this is the most important of all. I must take her body into the sunlight one last time, so that her spirit can find its way to heaven."

"All of this is acceptable, as long as it does not interfere with her upward spiral," the priest declared, motioning for him to rise. The first priest opened the door and consulted with the older man. When they were finished, he turned to Chakotay and said, "We share in your reverence at this holy time."

He'd passed inspection.

The ashram was small, just an administration building with a long perpendicular wing that extended to the back and all of it encircled by a high wall. The first building housed the offices and, Chakotay suspected, the priests' and servants' quarters. They walked through a short covered walkway and emerged in a second low building made up of a long hallway with six private rooms, a building that was a cross between a dormitory and a hospital, designed to house the _gezegend_, he supposed.

"It is our honor to assist the first alien _gezegend_," the priest explained as he led Chakotay to the first doorway on the right and activated a control panel. "Please remove your shoes as you enter."

Chakotay could barely contain his anxiety as he was let into a typical hospital room with white walls. Two narrow windows were placed at the top of the far wall, and they provided the only light in the room. To the right was a small bathroom, just a toilet and sink. The main part of the room was blocked from view by a white curtain. A young female servant stepped through the curtain, her head bowed.

"Has the _gezegend_ been blessed?" the priest demanded.

"It is as you have requested," she replied. Without looking up, she asked, "Do you need help in performing your rites, Shaman?"

"No," he whispered, his heart hammering in his chest. "I must do this alone."

The priest handed Chakotay his backpack. "Let us know when you are ready to take her body into the sunlight."

Soundlessly, the two left, locking the door behind them. Chakotay found it nearly impossible to move. He glanced at the cameras that were placed in the upper corners and focused on the room, confirming his suspicion that his actions would be carefully monitored. He felt apprehensive about misleading these people and worried about what might happen to both of them and Voyager if his deception was discovered too soon. But, he had no choice. He sent up a silent prayer for guidance and strength, and then he stepped through the curtain.

Kathryn lay on a narrow bed covered by a white wool blanket. Her skin was alabaster white, and the freckles that she worked so hard to hide in her professional life stood out in stark relief across her nose, cheeks, and shoulders. He stepped to the side of the bed and looked down at her, tears falling from his eyes onto her shoulder as he realized just how close to death she hovered.

He had seen her like this before, nearly dead, and he fought against the panic and grief that threatened to immobilize him. She barely breathed, yet she had a strange peaceful look on her face. Her eyes were slightly open, fixed, and clouded, probably a side effect of the elixir that the priests administered against the pain. She looked like she was already dead or, at least, too far gone to retrieve.

"Kathryn, I'm here," he whispered, laying a hand on her icy shoulder. "I'm going to help you."

He forced himself to turn away. The basin of warm water he had requested steamed on a rolling tray behind him, so he busied himself with preparing the bath, opening the salts and pouring them into the water. A welcoming aroma of lilac filled the room, a favorite scent that Kathryn had used for years. This time, however, the doctor had infused the salts with both the antidote and antibiotics, undetectable until it was activated by the water.

Turning back to the captain, Chakotay pulled back the blanket that covered her body, finding her naked except for a cloth that was wrapped around her hips. In spite of himself, he paused for long moments to gaze at her, drinking in the beauty of her breasts, her flat stomach, her narrow waist. His fascination was disrupted by an odd sickly-sweet smell that overwhelmed the perfume. He pulled the blanket down farther to reveal her legs. His stomach churned at the sight of the untreated wound that festered beneath her right knee.

Black putrefied flesh oozed white pus into a brace that had been placed around the joint, and angry red streaks of infection burned up her thigh and into her groin, feverish and angry.

"Oh, my god, Kathryn," he whispered, reaching for the towels that were stacked beside the basin. Singing a song that his mother had taught him, he washed the right leg first, dipping the towel into the antiseptic water and wringing it into the wound before gently wiping out the pus and drainage. Gradually a pile of soiled towels appeared under the bed. At first, he'd worried about hurting her or about upsetting the priests, but then he realized that she was totally unaware of his ministrations, drugged into oblivion, and the priests watching him believed that she was too far gone for them to worry about his treatment of her wound. He prayed that they were mistaken.

Once the injured leg was clean, he bathed the other leg, her torso, her arms, and her neck. Her hair had been recently washed and was spread out on the pillow like an auburn fan, framing her pale face. Through it all, she didn't move or respond to his touch. Chakotay was reminded of the times he had watched his mother prepare a corpse for burial, and he shivered in fear.

"Hang on, Kathryn," he begged her. "Don't give in."

Once the bath ended and her body was dry, he began to chant as he shook out the white shimmering robe that felt like pure silk in his hands. Although it looked to be made of natural material, it had been infused with a thread that reacted to the Broden sun. The robe slipped onto her arms and tied in the back, so he gently turned her on her side and tucked the robe beneath her. Then he rolled her to the other side so that the robe could be secured. In spite of what must have been excruciating pain, Kathryn didn't react. Chakotay smoothed the robe over her body and then reached for the prayer book and the narrow tubes of holy water—all of them carrying an inert and concentrated dose of the poison's antibody that would be activated by exposure to the Broden atmosphere.

Putting the tubes of water on her chest, he read from the missal, blessing the water for its cleansing of her soul, reading the words that Tuvok had quickly assembled from his Vulcan poetry. Solemnly chanting a repeated blessing, he picked up a tube, broke it open, and allowed the water to drip into her right eye. Then he picked up another tube for the left eye, for each nostril, and for each ear. The last tube was emptied into her mouth.

He leaned forward, improvising, and kissed her on the mouth, closing his eyes and praying to the spirits that he was not too late, that she would survive this ordeal and be returned to health. Then he straightened up and spoke aloud. "It is now time to take her body to the sunlight and allow her spirit to seek the heavens."

The priest and the nurse immediately unlocked and opened the door, bringing with them an antigravity gurney. Chakotay shook his head, tears in his eye, "I can't use that. I must carry her in my arms."

The nurse nodded. "Let me immobilize the knee first," she requested. When that was done, Chakotay slipped his arms under the captain's shoulders and legs and picked her up, cradling her against his body so that her head was resting on his shoulder.

"I'd like to take her to the battlement above the gate. It is the highest part of the ashram with the most direct sunlight at this hour."

"Follow me," the priest replied.

The three of them walked solemnly through the hallway, the covered corridor, and the administration building, tears coursing down Chakotay's cheeks. Kathryn was so completely unresponsive, so oblivious, that he felt he had already lost her forever.

"We will accompany you to the top of the wall," the priest announced.

"Very well," Chakotay replied with a dip of his head.

The priest unlocked a door and led him up a steep stairway, pausing to open the door to the battlement for him.

"You may observe from the door," Chakotay stopped him. "I must do this alone. I'm sorry, but it is our most sacred rite."

The cold took his breath away, and the sun was behind a cloud; more clouds were rolling over the mountain. Trying not to panic, he held Kathryn closer, nestling her face into his neck to wait for a sunbeam. He told them, "Just a few moments more, until the sun breaks through." And then he began to sing his mother's song again, a lullaby that had been burned into his memory.

As if conjured by his voice, the sun broke through the clouds, and Chakotay turned to face it, holding Kathryn's body in the light and sending up a prayer that Tom Paris was where he was supposed to be. Kathryn's robes caught the light and glowed with an unnaturally bright glow that was almost as bright as a beacon, and was certainly bright enough to be picked up by the sensors of a nearby shuttlecraft.

The priest watching them from the doorway cried out in alarm as Chakotay and Kathryn dissolved in the shimmering blue light of a transporter beam.


	7. Chapter 7

VII.

"The Broden are scrambling their ships," Rollins reported from Voyager's tactical station. "And I mean all of their ships—both sides."

"That means Chakotay has done something worth getting their attention," Tuvok replied from his seat on the command deck. "Let's hope he and the captain have beamed safely out of the ashram."

The plan for Chakotay's escape from the planet had fallen squarely on the Vulcan's capable shoulders, but he still worried that something unexpected would go wrong. Constrained by just a few hours of planning and preparation and by only a rudimentary understanding of the Broden, their success would depend as much on good luck as on proper planning.

The first stroke of luck they experienced was the location of the Ashram at the magnetic north pole of the planet. He imagined that the Broden had chosen that location because its unusual properties had a religious significance to them; their religious texts said that this was the site where their gods touched the planet's surface. However, it had the added benefit of providing a natural shield that prevented orbital scanning, something that the Broden had not appreciated. While it had kept Voyager from picking up the captain's human life signs, it had also kept the Broden from noticing covert activities in the area.

The second stroke of luck had been the fact that all of the Broden held the ashram and the priests in such total reverence. It was anathema to consider approaching the ashram with weapons in hand. Who would attack such a revered location? Why would anyone disrupt its sacred function or put its priests in danger? For that reason, the retreat was totally undefended. There wasn't a phaser or photon torpedo within hundreds of miles of the location.

Finally, the Broden had never been at war with extraterrestrial enemies. They had never been attacked from space and had no idea what kinds of duplicity a practiced strategist could take against them. Their spaceships were defensive in design and were small and underpowered when compared to Voyager. They were meant to swarm against a foe like a pack of wolves and were totally unprepared for a devious opponent who had both Starfleet and Maquis experience to draw upon.

It was almost too easy. The inexperience with aliens that had made them greet Voyager as friends was now being turned against them. When Chakotay had lamented that fact, Tuvok had been less than sympathetic, as any true Vulcan would have been.

"Mr. Rollins," Tuvok said, turning to give his subordinate his orders, "it's time to complicate the Broden's communications."

"Yes, sir!" Rollins couldn't help but smile as he pulled up a new screen on his console, a screen that showed him the view from inside the shuttle on the surface of the planet and gave him access to its helm. Moments later, Chakotay's shuttle rose from the planet's surface and blazed toward a critical communication substation that was in orbit over the planet's geographical North Pole. The shuttle fired its phasers, neatly separating the substation's sensor array from the occupied portion of the station in a single shot.

"All communications in the northern hemisphere just went offline," Harry reported from the operations console. He gave Rollins a smile, "Nice shooting!"

"It's not my first relay station," Rollins quipped, wiping the grin from his face when Tuvok gave him an exasperated glare. "The ships are no longer scrambling, just as we hoped," he replied, getting down to business. "They look pretty disorganized, but the ones that already launched are still pursuing the shuttle."

"We'll have to deal with them." Tuvok turned back to the view screen. "Let's just hope they don't have a fleet of bigger ships hidden somewhere unexpected, Mr. Rollins."

Harry looked up in surprise. "We're being hailed by Minister Tdren, sir."

"Ignore him," Tuvok snapped. "We want them to think we're still outside the asteroid belt, not in high orbit behind their most distant moon. If we contact them, they'll realize how close to the surface we are and our plans will be compromised."

"Yes, sir."

Tuvok shook his head at the Broden's innocence. Any planet with normal paranoia would have built an observation station on the far side of that moon or established some sort of sensor net to give them advanced warning of approaching enemies, but the Broden were complacent and unaware. Tuvok imagined that, following Voyager's escape, there would soon be such a station on at least one of their moons if not a full-fledged advanced warning system outside their solar system.

Meanwhile, the shuttle had turned from its successful attack on the communications station and was headed directly for the ashram, its shields up and weapons powered.

"Tdren is saying that they consider the shuttle's actions an act of war and will fire on it, Tuvok," Harry reported. "And he says that an attack on the ashram is an abomination."

Tuvok nodded calmly. "Time for phase two, Mr. Rollins."

"Dropping shields," Rollins replied. The shuttle immediately dipped toward the planet's surface, its contents fully open to the Broden ship's scanners. Two human life signs appeared on the ship, one male, one female. "There they are, sir, right where they're supposed to be. Big as life."

"Let's see if these people are willing to fire on a ship that contains one of their blessed _gezegend_," Harry muttered.

"Indeed," Tuvok answered. In fact, the success of his plan relied on the assumption that the captain's special status would complicate the Broden's reaction to the shuttle. The longer the Broden focused on pursuing their precious _gezegend_, the more likely their plan would work.

"They've noticed," Rollins reported. "The ships that managed to scramble before the communications went down are heading toward the shuttle, but their weapons are not powered."

"Shields?" Tuvok wondered.

"They have those powered, sir. I think they want to try to force the shuttle to the surface."

"Bring the shields up again. When they come within range, initiate evasive maneuvers," Tuvok ordered. "In the meantime, prepare to shoot at the lead ship."

"The Broden are warning the shuttle to lower shields and prepare for boarding." Harry looked up. "They're demanding that the _gezegend_ be returned to the priests."

Tuvok turned to Rollins. "Can the shuttle go to warp?"

"No sir," he replied. "It's still located deep inside the planet's gravity well. It would need about six minutes to gain enough altitude before it could create a warp field."

"It doesn't have six minutes." Tuvok stood up, grasping his hands behind his back. "We're stuck with Plan B."

A groan went up from the bridge crew and tension mounted at the prospect of losing yet another shuttle.

"Fire a shot across the nearest ship's bow and then take evasive action," Tuvok ordered. "Make sure the shuttle is headed toward open water."

"You're going to ditch the shuttle?" Harry exclaimed. "But the captain is—"

Tuvok silenced him with an arched brow. "If the shuttle is undamaged and sinks to the bottom of the ocean, its intact passenger cabin will keep the occupants alive for hours. That will keep our friends busy trying to rescue them."

Harry just closed his mouth and glanced up at Rollins, who gave him a resigned shrug.

On the planet, the Broden pursuit of the shuttle was relentless. The shuttle dodged and jinked, occasionally getting off a phaser shot that inevitably missed its target, but the Broden did not give up. Refusing to fire upon the _gezegend_, they instead tried to herd the shuttle into a safe landing spot on the frozen plains of the polar icecap.

When it was obvious that the shuttle was trapped and unable to reach open space, the ship banked sharply into a perilously steep dive that overloaded its structural integrity. The port nacelle struts snapped cleanly off, spewing plasma that forced the Broden ships to swerve away. Moments later, the shuttle plunged into the icy waters of the frigid ocean and disappeared beneath the waves.

The Broden ships went from attack mode to rescue mode in a matter of seconds. All of their attention was focused on the retrieval of the precious _gezegend_.

On Voyager's bridge, Tuvok crossed his arms and waited to see what the Broden would do next as the crew waited for the other shoe to drop.

The reaction elsewhere was a little more emotional.

"Hook, line, and sinker," Tom Paris shouted from the helm of Neelix's cloaked ship. Beneath them, the icy and rocky tors of the arctic mountain range were a blur just meters beneath them as the ship raced at breakneck speed away from the ashram. "They're using all of their resources to get the shuttle, just as we hoped they would."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Neelix replied from the copilot's seat where he tried not to look at the impending disaster whizzing by beneath his ship. "I had no idea this buggy could fly like this."

"It can't," Tom chuckled. "But I can."

"Enough trash talking, Paris," Chakotay said from the back of the ship where he sat beside the captain's unconscious body. "Let's hit the ceiling before they figure out that the captain isn't in the shuttle."

"Gladly." Tom took the Talaxian ship vertical so quickly that Neelix rolled backwards out of his seat. "I estimate that we'll be past the first moon in five minutes and on our way out of here in six."

"It can't be soon enough," Chakotay muttered. "I have to say, Tom, that you were right about that remote piloting program you and the captain decided to develop."

"I love to hear you say 'You were right, Tom.' It really makes me happy."

Chakotay shook his head in resignation. When Tom had approached the captain a few months earlier with the ridiculous idea of a totally remote piloting program, he'd expected her to turn him down cold. Instead, she'd been intrigued.

"_A remotely piloted shuttle could come in handy, if you can make it work smoothly," she'd remarked. "It would have to include more than piloting, though. Shields, weapons, even transporting would be necessary." _

"_Piece of cake, Captain," Tom had assured her. "Using Seven's knowledge of Borg scanners and my experience in flying holodeck simulations, we should be able to make piloting a shuttle as easy as playing a video game."_

_Chakotay had glared at him. "Video game?" _

"_Don't ask," Kathryn had laughed. "It's part of his fascination with the twentieth century. I can see that this could come in handy if we needed to send a shuttle into a situation where it might be lost. Go with it, Tom, and let me know what kind of support you need."_

Chakotay had forgotten about the project until they were planning this rescue attempt. The thought of sacrificing an already damaged shuttle seemed like a small price to pay for the captain's life.

"Tom and I have run this program successfully on the holodeck dozens of times over the last few months," B'Elanna reassured him. "Rollins can easily run it from any console on the bridge."

"What about the transporter?" he'd asked.

"I can devise a tranporter program that beams you two out of the ashram and into Neelix's ship, as long as you are in direct sensor range of the shuttle."

"Let's do it," he'd replied, using his captain's favorite phrase. "I'll just have to land where the shuttle is in plain view of the ashram."

Now, as he looked down at Kathryn, he marveled at her ingenuity. She seemed to have a sixth sense about innovations in the ship that would end up saving their lives just a few months later.

He tucked the blankets closer around her and worried again about her survival. Tom had done a quick examination of the captain and assured Chakotay that she would survive, but he could tell that she was barely breathing, and her skin was still icy to the touch. He cursed himself for failing to bring the EMH along on the trip.

He looked up at Tom. "I want the captain beamed to sickbay at the soonest possible moment."

"Aye, Commander," Paris replied as the blue sky in the view screen turned black and the stars appeared. "Piece of cake."


	8. Chapter 8

VIII.

"The Broden have given up, Commander," Harry reported as Voyager sped away from the Broden home world at warp nine. The pursuing Broden ships did not actually turn back as much as they simply stopped their pursuit and watched Voyager disappear into the distance. For them, it was a sad farewell. For Chakotay, it was an overwhelming relief.

"Stand down from red alert and lower shields," Chakotay ordered. He looked down at himself and realized that he was still wearing the white woolen robe that he'd donned for his visit to the ashram. He untied the belt and shrugged out of the hot garment as he rose from his seat prepared to leave the bridge. "Continue on this course at warp nine for the time being. Mr. Tuvok, I'd like to talk to you in the ready room."

"Very well," the Vulcan replied.

Chakotay glanced at Tom Paris. "You have the bridge."

The plan to rescue the captain had gone perfectly, and for that, everyone was grateful. She had been beamed to sickbay as soon as Neelix's ship was within transporter range, but that act had required the Talaxian ship to decloak, which gave the Broden military the first hint that there was more going on than a shuttle on the bottom of the arctic ocean.

Several Broden vessels pursued Neelix's ship with phasers firing, but Tom had managed to get inside Voyager's shuttle bay before they sustained any serious damage. Chakotay had rushed to the bridge to facilitate Voyager's escape from the Broden system. Now, as the adrenaline wore off, Chakotay found himself fighting exhaustion.

As the ready room door closed behind the two men, Chakotay tossed the robe on one of the visitor chairs and headed for the replicator. "Can I get you some tea, Tuvok?"

"Yes, thank you." He followed Chakotay to the upper level, accepted the tea, and took a seat, watching as Chakotay sprawled on the sofa with a cup of coffee large enough to be worthy of their captain. "I thought you might want to check on the captain's condition and then do a quick debriefing."

"I probably should do just that," Chakotay replied, taking a sip of his coffee. "But I'm physically strapped and emotionally drained. It's been nearly thrity-six hours since I slept, and I'm about to drop in my tracks. I thought we might talk things through for now and meet with the senior staff later. Once I leave the bridge, I'm afraid I'll be gone for a while."

"Understood. We can schedule a formal debriefing for tomorrow."

"If I'm awake by then." Chakotay took a deep breath and shook his head. "As usual, when we get to the end of one of these near-death experiences, I look back in horror at the deeds we've done."

"We faced an exceptionally complex situation."

"It was worse than complex, Tuvok. By taking a precious _gezegen_ from the Broden priests, we literally destroyed one of their most sacred rites. I can't think that the captain is going to be pleased by that."

"We had few alternatives. And, in any event, I suspect the Broden will blame our actions on the fact that the captain is an alien. Their priests will find a way to reconcile what happened, perhaps by stressing that it was a mistake that she was so chosen."

"I hope you're right." He stared blindly across the room. "At least, to our knowledge, no one lost a life because of our rescue attempt."

"No, and all we lost was our oldest, most damaged shuttle."

Chakotay groaned. "The captain will not be pleased by that, you know. She thinks it's a waste of time and resources that our crew is constantly rebuilding and replacing shuttles, but I tell her that it keeps the crew busy. She seems to take umbrage with that attitude."

"There is some truth in what you say, although it is a never-ending task. In this case, we also learned that the remote piloting device that Tom and B'Elanna have been working on actually works well."

"It really did, Tuvok. The empty shuttle was an integral part of our success, giving the Broden something to chase after. That program will come in handy again someday, as will the cloak we installed on Neelix's ship."

"Indeed. The cloak has also proven to be a good investment of time and equipment." Tuvok finished his tea and set the empty cup on the table. "The Broden will not welcome the next alien ship the way they welcomed Voyager."

Chakotay groaned and rubbed his face. "Don't remind me. I feel like I just bullied a helpless, innocent friend."

"It was inevitable that the Broden would eventually experience that painful fall from innocence."

"But not at our expense." He gave the Vulcan a wary look. "Have we heard anything about the captain's condition?"

"On last report, I understand that she is still in critical condition."

"She was more dead than alive when I got to her, Tuvok. The 'ritual' I went through helped keep her alive and certainly fooled the priests." He forced back a yawn. "We were lucky that the Broden were not very sophisticated or suspicious about our motives."

"It makes sense that our religion would have some sort of death ritual."

"They were as respectful of our 'bogus' ritual as we were disrespectful of their real one."

"They found it impossible to imagine that anyone would disregard their religious practices."

"The prime directive says we're supposed to respect those beliefs, Tuvok."

The Vulcan disagreed. "Not at the price of our captain's life."

"I suppose not, but I wonder, sometimes." He stretched and checked the time. "The truth is that we lucked out."

"We did. I hope that you don't feel guilty about any of this, Commander. We did what we had to do." Tuvok stood up. "You're exhausted. Perhaps you should check on the captain and get then some rest."

"Good idea."

When Chakotay left the ready room and boarded the turbolift, he decided that he wasn't going to take the time to go to his quarters and change out of the rest of his "shaman" garb. He was afraid that he would crawl into bed when he should go straight to sickbay to see about Kathryn. And so, he ordered the 'lift to Deck Five and promised himself that he wouldn't leave sickbay until he was sure that she was going to survive.

He arrived to find the doctor in one of his terrible moods.

"Commander, I can't believe that the Broden didn't treat the captain's knee injury! I haven't seen gangrene this bad in . . . well, I've never seen gangrene this bad."

"They felt the wound was part of her selection as a divine messenger."

"Well, I'm going to have to regenerate most of the tendons and ligaments around the knee, not to mention the muscles in her thigh and calf. The treatment is going to take at least two weeks, and you know how the captain is going to react to that."

Chakotay winced. "She's going to keep the leg, though."

"Of course, she is!" The doctor gave him an exasperated look. "This isn't the dark ages, Commander. I'm not going to cut the leg off when I can heal it."

"Thank God for that." Chakotay approached the biobed where the captain lay under the critical care cowling. "How about the poison?"

"The antidote you provided during the ritual eradicated any residual traces of the poison."

"So it had already disappeared?"

"The poison had been excreted from her system, but the side effects were much more serious than I anticipated."

"Explain."

"Her human enzymes interacted with the poison in a way I didn't foresee, bringing about a pretty dramatic mutation. As a result, serious damage was done to her heart and lungs. It affected the amount of oxygen in her blood."

"That sounds serious."

"Very serious. She would have suffered serious brain damage from oxygen deprivation if it hadn't been for the pain medication."

Chakotay was confused. "I thought that medication is what brought on her addiction problem?"

"It did, but it also had a beneficial side effect of increasing her blood oxygen enough to avoid the brain damage."

"Amazing. The drug that was supposed to ease her into death actually kept her from serious injury." Chakotay placed a hand on the captain's shoulder. "She was pretty lucky, then."

"Very lucky."

"And her prognosis at this point?"

"Besides the two weeks of physical therapy, she has at least of week of drug rehabilitation."

Chakotay sighed, imagining how well the captain would take this news. "And when will she start that process?"

"Not until the pain medication begins to wear off. As I suspected, they have her heavily drugged right now, so she won't face withdrawal for another day or so." He clicked his tongue. "They refuse to treat a simple injury and then usher people toward their deaths. I am amazed."

"When there is no hope for recovery," Chakotay replied, "reducing suffering is the humane thing to do."

"I could argue that point, but only if they had no choice. In this case, the Broden had a choice. They could have healed her injury, and they didn't need to give her this drug to help her expire."

"It's part of their religious beliefs."

The EMH just sighed. "It just doesn't make sense to me."

"ii does seem illogical." Chakotay's eyes suddenly felt gritty with exhaustion. "Will you be ready to help her when she comes off the drug?"

"I should be able to synthesize a substitute that will let her wean herself from it in a matter of a week to ten days."

"Oh, boy. Ten days of withdrawal and two weeks of rehab? Good thing you're a hologram or she might jettison you out an airlock."

"I can be decompiled, you know." He returned to the surgical cowl and worked on her knee for a moment. "Commander, do you have any idea how close we came to losing her?"

"Too close."

"I'd say an hour." He looked up and frowned. "She wasn't on death's door, she was halfway through it."

Chakotay's throat closed and tears burned behind his eyes. The room tilted and went out of focus, and then he opened his eyes to find himself on a biobed looking up at the doctor's worried face.

"What happened," he wondered.

"You passed out from exhaustion, Commander. You have been through a harrowing experience and have gotten little or no sleep in nearly two days. I suggest you take some time off, get some food and rest, and then return to duty."

"I planned to return to my quarters after I checked on the captain."

"I realize that, but the captain is going to need your support as she gets off these drugs. She'll need you to take the bridge, and she'll also need help with her treatment."

"I imagine Tuvok and I will take turns doing that."

"An excellent plan. She will need you then, but she doesn't need you right now."

Chakotay looked over at the critical care alcove and realized that whether or not she needed him, he needed her. The thought of leaving her here and walking to his quarters was just too much to consider. "Is it okay if I sleep right here in sickbay, doc? When I have a little more energy, I'll go back to my quarters."

"Suits me, as long as you don't snore."

"I'm not making any promises." Chakotay smiled and closed his eyes. It had been the longest two days of his life, but the worst was over. All that remained was surviving the captain's drug treatment and physical therapy. Compared to what he'd been through, dealing with Kathryn's impatience and frustration sounded like a good time. His only real concern was her reaction to the "death ritual" he performed at the ashram.

It was possible that his days outside the brig were numbered.


	9. Chapter 9

IX.

Harry Kim sat in the mess hall toying with Neelix's latest breakfast concoction, a fried piece of dough that looked and tasted like a cross between a burned waffle and a damp acoustic ceiling tile. Life had been uneventful since Voyager had escaped from Broden space seven days earlier, but Harry had found it impossible to relax. The captain had yet to make an appearance, spending her days in her quarters where she took physical therapy and recovered from the treatment the Broden had given her. With each passing day, Harry's feelings of guilt over her ordeal had increased until he was desperate for news about her condition.

"You aren't going to eat that, are you?" Tom Paris asked as he sat down across from him and eyed Harry's plate. "I decided skip that and go for some of the leftover lushka stew from last night."

"This isn't so bad if you use enough syrup, and, besides, that stew always gives me the trots."

"Ugh. Too much information." Tom stirred the stew and speared a vegetable, holding it in front of his eyes for a close inspection before popping it into his mouth. "Did you hear? The captain's coming back on duty today. For a while, anyway."

"She is?" Harry's face lit up. "That's the best news I've had in days."

"You aren't still feeling guilty about what happened, are you?"

"If I'd just stayed with her, things would have turned out differently."

"You don't know that. Whoever found her would have found you both. They still would have taken her to the priests, and who knows what they might have done to you. We would have had to find two of you, and it was a close enough call just getting the captain out in one piece."

"I could have explained who we were, talked them into letting me contact Voyager. Everything could have been a lot easier that way."

"They weren't going to give up the captain, no matter what you said."

"I could have gone with her."

"Yeah, and they could also have shot you dead. The only reason they didn't shoot the captain was because they considered her some sort of sacred messenger." Tom laid down his fork and leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Listen, Harry, and listen good. Most of us would have made the same decision you did and left her alone while we looked for help. I know I would have. Let it go. Everything worked out okay."

"Except that the captain nearly died and is spending weeks getting off the drugs and going through rehab on her leg."

"I give up." Tom sat back and gave his friend an exasperated look. "If you want to feel guilty for the rest of your life, go ahead. I imagine the captain will tell you to move on."

"You've seen her, right? In sickbay? How is she doing?"

"I haven't seen her. As soon as she had gone through the first stage of her withdrawal from the drug, she went back to her quarters and has been there ever since. I thought you knew that."

"I heard the withdrawal was brutal."

"It wasn't pretty, but, thanks to the doc's treatment, it's been getting better every day."

"I just figured you'd see her when she came to sickbay for rehab on her knee."

"That's not the way she does things." Tom shook his head. "Chakotay and Tuvok take turns helping her with her rehabilitation exercises, and the doc makes frequent house calls to help with the withdrawal."

"How frequent are the house calls."

"I'm not sure. Five or six times a day."

Harry groaned.

"The drug addiction is NOT your fault, Harry, so don't worry about it, okay?"

Harry focused his attention on his breakfast, listening to Tom interact with the crew sitting nearby. The whole ship was buzzing with excitement to have the captain returning to work, and the bridge crew was filled with anticipation as they waited for her to arrive. Every eye was on the turbolift doors as the Tom and Harry arrived for duty, and every eye was disappointed that one of them wasn't the captain.

Harry crossed to his station and went to work, trying to control his growing anxiety. How would the captain react when she saw him? Would she be angry with him? Would she reprimand him for putting her life in danger? He found refuge in running his scans and checking the work done by the overnight crew, but his eyes kept looking up at the 'lift doors in expectation.

Finally, some fifty minutes later, the captain arrived on the bridge with Chakotay at her side.

"Captain on the bridge!" Harry cried, bringing the crew to attention.

"As you were, please," Janeway ordered, giving all of them a huge smile. "After all, I've just been a couple of decks away, and Tuvok and Chakotay have kept me informed of what was going on up here."

She walked slowly down the ramp, using a cane to stabilize her still-weak right leg and holding the railing with her free hand. Chakotay walked behind her, ready to catch her in case she lost her balance. When they arrived at their command station, Chakotay held her hand as she lowered herself into her seat, and Harry noticed that, for the first time in memory, she didn't cross her legs after she sat down. He could see the pain in her eyes as she bent her knee and then rubbed it gently. Chakotay sat down beside her and studied her intently, no doubt assessing just how much pain she was trying to hide.

Harry saw her glance up and give him a reassuring wink, and his eyes widened in surprise at yet another sign of a close friendship between them. Everyone on the crew watched for signs of intimacy, but they were careful to keep such things private. Harry felt that he'd been given a rare glimpse at their friendship. A wink? On the bridge? He would have to tell Tom and B'Elanna about it over dinner later.

Harry thought back to the chaos of the Broden battle and remembered the way Janeway had praised Chakotay and had said that her last thoughts would be of him. He studied them as they shared their console, talking quietly, discussing something on the screen, and he asked himself the same question he'd been asking for the last six years: Just how close were they?

They were close enough for him to be her primary nurse during her recovery. Everyone knew that Chakotay and Tuvok had helped her extensively during the last week, but it had been Chakotay who had spent the bulk of his off duty time in her quarters while Tuvok had been an almost constant presence on the bridge. Just how much help had she needed? Had either of them spent the night there? Had they helped her bathe and dress?

Harry realized that he was staring at the captain and tore his eyes away. He didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable on her first day back at work, and yet he wondered about her condition.

"Ensign Kim."

"Captain?" he replied, his voice an embarrassing squeak. He looked up to find her standing in front of her chair, leaning heavily on her cane as Chakotay perched on the edge of his seat, his eyes glued on her in case he needed to help her keep her balance.

"Would you join me in the ready room?"

"Of course." He noticed that she waited for him to arrive at her side before she handed the bridge to Chakotay and started for the ramp.

Her voice was soft as she put her hand on his arm and asked him to keep her from smashing into the ready room doorway. "I'm a little shaky yet," she chuckled.

Once Harry had guided her into the ready room and had helped her settle into her desk chair, she asked him to bring her a cup of coffee and help himself to a hot drink, as well.

"Nothing for me, thanks," he said as he fetched the coffee. "I just finished breakfast."

"Suit yourself, but, please, sit down. I want to talk to you." She took a long sip of her coffee and gave him a level look. "That was quite an experience we had on the planet, wasn't it?"

"It was a nightmare, Captain." He swallowed hard. "I've been really worried about you."

"Of course you have." She made a face. "I should have had you come see me sooner, so you could see that I was alive and well, but I really haven't been fit for company until today."

"You certainly look better than you did the last time I saw you."

"We were in an alley? Or a some basement room?" She shook her head. "I'm afraid those last minutes are very fuzzy.

"Yes, it had been an apartment at one time, but was being used as a storeroom. I'm afraid it wasn't a very good hiding place."

"It was the best we could do."

Harry nodded, but he felt miserable.

"Harry, rumor has it that you've been blaming yourself for what happened to me." She looked at him with sympathy in her eyes.

"I should have handled the whole situation differently."

"In what way?" she demanded, looking surprised. "It was just bad luck that I was hit by that projectile, and after that, we just had to do the best we could to survive."

"I shouldn't have left you alone when you were so sick. If I had stayed with you-."

She stopped him with a raised hand. "I ordered you to leave, Ensign. Have you forgotten that?"

He stared at her, his mouth open.

"And if the tables had been turned and you were the one who was injured, I would have left you there to look for help. It was the logical thing to do."

"But, Captain—"

"Please, let me finish." She took a deep breath and then continued, "What happened was totally unexpected, and you did the best you could in very fluid circumstances. The important thing is that we all escaped without suffering any serious permanent damage."

"But, Captain, you almost died!"

She shook her head. "But I didn't die, Harry, and that's what matters. What I remember is that the crew managed to find a workable solution to an impossible problem and rescued me just in time. You played an important part in the rescue, and that's what we should focus on as we move on."

"I wasn't involved in the actual rescue, Captain." At her puzzled look, he continued, "I didn't leave the ship after Tom beamed us onto the shuttle."

"But you played an important part of the planning. You brought the doctor the projectile that had traces of the poison on it so he could analyze it and create an antidote. And you helped to bring down the dampening field so that Tom could beam you and the other two off of the planet in time to track me down at the ashram. I'm putting all three of you in for a commendation."

"I don't know what to say, Captain."

"There's nothing more that needs to be said, Harry. I asked you to come in here today because I wanted to thank you for saving my life. I want you to put all the guilt you feel behind you. I have no room on my bridge for a distracted officer."

"Yes, Captain." He felt himself blushing. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Not right now. I'm going to review a few reports, but then I'm going to return to my quarters for another rehab session on my knee."

"I don't envy you that, Captain."

"I'm getting better every day. However, I sometimes think Tuvok and Chakotay get some sort of vindictive pleasure out of putting me through the exercises."

Harry grinned as he stood up to leave. "They just might."

"I tell you what, Harry," she continued, her eyes sparkling. "In a couple of weeks, when my knee is completely healed, we'll play a few games of velocity. Maybe it will make you feel better if you let me win."

He couldn't help but laugh. "That can definitely be arranged."


	10. Chapter 10

X.

Just a few hours after her first short tour of duty, Kathryn Janeway was drenched in sweat as she completed another rehab session in her quarters. Chakotay looked up at her in sympathy as he removed the exercise device from her knee and then gently massaged her calf in his warm hands.

"I thought I'd be farther along by now," she sighed, leaning her head back on the sofa cushion. "It's been a whole week."

"You're at least two days ahead of schedule, according to the doctor."

"I like to astonish him." She grinned and closed her eyes, enjoying the massage and the moment of rest. "He always sounds so damned cocky when he tells me how long it will take me to get back to normal."

"Even Kathryn Janeway has to accept the fact that she's only human. Strength of will isn't always going to shorten the amount of time she needs to heal."

"Please don't burst my bubble," she laughed, giving him a wink. "I like to think I'm a superhero."

"You're a superhero in my book."

"Superheroes don't succumb to the first explosion of a battle, Chakotay."

"If it's any consolation, that explosion was a doozy."

She laughed. "I'll have to take your word on that. Most of what happened on the planet is a blur to me."

"Most of it?" He sat down beside her and picked up the rehab device, disassembling it until it was needed again later that evening.

She smiled. "You've wanted to ask me how much I remember, haven't you?"

Chakotay glanced at her, wondering if she was teasing him, but she still had her eyes closed and seemed completely serious. The truth was that he had considered asking her how much she remembered of the "death ritual" at the ashram, but he'd been afraid to find out.

"I was hoping you wouldn't remember the pain and suffering."

"I remember beaming down to the market. Broden was a beautiful planet, Chakotay, so much like Earth. The sun was shining, the blue sky was full of fluffy white clouds. People seemed friendly and interested in meeting us as we walked through the market. I saw all kinds of gorgeous jewelry, beautiful clothing, and artwork, and, Chakotay, the food smelled delicious. I couldn't wait to go shopping there, and I knew it would be a perfect location for some shore leave."

"That's what Harry said, but I'll have to take your word on it. The only part of the planet I saw was the icy polar region."

She opened one eye and looked at him. "Why is it that when we finally find a planet full of kind, helpful people, they immediately suffer a planet-wide holy war that has us running away at warp nine?"

"We haven't had the best of luck in the Delta Quadrant."

"You said it." She closed her eye again and sighed. "I'd say most of our luck has been bad luck."

He studied her carefully, picking up the telltale signs of another round of withdrawal symptoms. She had suddenly become emotional, her voice full of anger. She seemed unable to relax, clinching and unclenching her hands, and wriggling on the sofa as if she were uncomfortable in her skin.

The early attacks still haunted him-cold sweats, vomiting, chills, irrational tears and anger, and an inability to sit still or listen to reason as she cried out for help. He knew instinctively that the EMH was a few minutes late with the next of her anti-exilir treatments.

"You must be tired, Kathryn. Why don't you lie down and try to relax."

"I'm not tired, I'm jittery. It's time for another hypospray, isn't it?" She sat up and rubbed her face with trembling hands. "I feel like my heart is going to pound out of my chest."

Chakotay clucked in sympathy as he watched her become steadily more restless and agitated. Her skin grew pale and a new sheen of perspiration appeared on her forehead and upper lip. She rubbed her thumbs over the pads of her fingers and then began to scratch her palms with her fingernails. Chakotay grabbed her wrists in his hand and called for the EMH.

"I'm right outside the captain's door," the doctor answered.

"Well, then, come in!" Kathryn barked, her eyes flashing with fury. "You're late!"

"I apologize, Captain. Naomi Wildman fell from a high shelf in cargo bay one and needed to have her fractured wrist treated."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Kathryn sighed as she turned her head and let the doctor apply the hypospray to her neck. "What was she doing climbing so high?"

"She and the twins were playing hide and seek, and Naomi decided that the upper shelves would be a great place to hide."

Chakotay smiled. "That sounds like something kids would do."

Kathryn let her head fall back on the cushion as the hypospray took effect and her withdrawal symptoms faded, giving way to relaxation and exhaustion.

"Is there anything else you require from me, Captain?" the doctor wondered. He snapped open his medical tricorder and did a quick scan. "You seem to be reacting normally to the medication."

"All I really want is to speed up the recovery process," she replied, rubbing her hands on her thighs. "Especially this withdrawal from the drugs."

"You're already halfway through the regimen," he replied. "And the symptoms will continue to be less strong as time goes by."

"So, I'll just have to be patient," she answered, rolling her eyes.

"If you can manage that," the EMH quipped.

Once the EMH had gone back to sickbay, Chakotay helped her stand up and walk to her bedroom. She usually slept for several hours after a treatment, and he knew she would be more comfortable in her bed than she would be on the sofa.

She toed off her slippers and lay down, stretching out with a sigh of relief. "This drug makes me feel odd."

"I imagine it does." He spread a light blanket over her and pulled up a chair. The first five days of the treatment had been grueling, and she had only begun to be her old self in the last twenty-four hours. "But imagine what you'd be going through without it."

"I'd rather not." She grinned. "You and Tuvok have been so patient with me."

"It wasn't that hard. For the first five days or so, you slept almost all the time."

"I know, but I was never really as deeply unconscious as I would be with morphine, for example, not even at the ashram."

Chakotay blinked in surprise. "You were aware of your surroundings?"

"In a detached way, yes. For example, I remember the room at the ashram quite vividly. White walls. Two narrow windows near the ceiling that let in a white, pure light. The narrow soft bed and the heavy white blanket that covered me. The red blinking lights in the corners of the room."

"Cameras." He swallowed, suddenly nervous. "And the people? Do you remember them?"

"I remember a female nurse and a man in formal robes. A priest, I guess." She shifted so that she was on her side and able to look at him. "And I remember you."

"You were aware of my presence?"

"Absolutely. I heard your voice first, in the hallway, before you ever entered the room, and I was so relieved. I think, in some way, I was listening for you."

He nodded, trying to relax as he realized that she might very well remember all of it, everything he'd done and said to her during the "death ritual." "You were hoping for rescue, I guess."

"I suppose so, and I was hoping that you would be the one to recue me."

"I'm afraid I was there under false pretenses—to perform the bogus 'last rites,' so to speak."

"It was a clever plan, and you put on a convincing show, as you had to in order to fool the priests. I actually relaxed when I smelled the lilacs."

"You remember that, too?"

"Vividly. The last rite you performed was very convincing."

Chakotay took a moment to breathe. "It was the only way we could think of to administer the antidote and the antibiotics you needed quickly and without arousing undue suspicion."

"It was a perfect plan, and it worked like a charm."

"I'm glad you think so," he said, his voice a whisper. He was suddenly very aware of her regard and became fascinated by his hands that he had gripped between his knees.

"Chakotay, you're worried that I'm upset because I wasn't clothed during the ritual, aren't you?"

He cleared his throat, but refused to look her in the eye. "Well, I was worried that you'd think it was an undue invasion of privacy, and I took comfort in the apparently mistaken belief that you were unconscious at the time."

Kathryn watched as a blush crept up his neck and onto his cheeks, and then she reached for his hand.

"Chakotay, please look at me." She waited until he glanced up at her and then she gave him an encouraging smile. "What you did for me that day was the single most tender and loving experience of my life. I suppose it could have been erotic and improper, but it wasn't anything like that. It really did feel like a religious ceremony.

"I felt cherished and cared for in a way that restored my soul and increased my resolve to survive the ordeal I'd been through. If nothing else, I wanted to live long enough to thank you for what you'd done. I was determined to thank you, and that's what I want to do today." She squeezed his hand. "You saved my life that day, Chakotay, and I'm eternally grateful to you for that."

He swallowed hard and gave her a relieved look. "I have to say that I'm glad that you weren't embarrassed by what I did, because I would feel terrible if you were."

"It's all right," she assured him. "It was necessary and it worked."

"I was so afraid for you. We all were."

"What was that lovely song you sang to me? Haven't I heard it before?"

"It's a lullaby my mother sang to us when we were children. You might have heard me sing it to Naomi when she was a baby."

"That must be it," she smiled at him, her eyes heavy with sleep. "I'm grateful that you rescued me with little or no collateral damage." She stifled a yawn as the drug lulled her. "So, you can relax, and we can just get on with our lives without any more tension between us. Okay?"

"Okay." He tucked the blanket around her. "Now, get some sleep. I have a few things to take care of on the bridge, but either Tuvok or I will be here when you need us."

She wrinkled her nose. "You mean for the next round of physical therapy on my leg, right?"

"And dinner," he added, giving her a wink. "I may even use a few of my rations to replicate you a piece of pecan pie—if you're a good patient."

She snuggled into her pillow and closed her eyes. "Now that is something to look forward to. Do you have time to stay a few minutes longer?"

"Do you need me to do something else for you?"

"I'd love for you to sing that lullaby again. It is such a sweet melody and it helps me relax."

"I'd be happy to, Kathryn." He sat down on the edge of the bed and sang the lullaby until her breaths were slow and even with sleep. He sent up a few words of thanks to whatever gods had helped them rescue her, and then he left the room, looking forward to sharing dinner with her in a few hours.

They had, once again, managed to cheat fate.


	11. Chapter 11

Epilogue

"What's this?" Chakotay asked, picking up a small brightly-wrapped package that Kathryn had left on his plate. It was their first routine weekly meal together since she'd returned to duty full time some ten days earlier, and he'd arrived in her quarters to the usual aroma of overcooked food and the familiar sight of peanut butter and jelly jars on the table.

"It's a birthday gift," she replied, pushing a container of bread toward him and then opening the jar of peanut butter.

"What were we going to have for dinner?" he asked as he picked up the jelly and scooped a large portion onto his bread. "Smells like it might have been lasagna."

"It was vegetable chili using some produce from the airponics bay. I put it on the heating element and then got distracted doing some routine log entries."

"So you can't blame the replicator this time."

"I wish I could, but I was trying to improvise. I'm already out of replicator rations."

"Because of my birthday present?"

"Let's just blame it on coffee." She pushed the peanut butter toward him and frowned at the depleted amount of jelly in the jar. "Why do you bother with peanut butter? Just have jelly bread."

"Peanut butter has protein."

"The sheen of peanut butter you use is about equivalent to two peanuts." She laughed and absently rubbed her shoulder.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"I played velocity with Harry today. I thought he'd take it easy on me, but I'm afraid I'm more out of shape than I realized."

"Would you like a shoulder rub?"

"Your shoulder rubs always send me right into a deep sleep. I need to eat first, thank you." They chatted awhile about recent events and upcoming plans and then, as she took the last bite of her sandwich, she mumbled, "Are you going to open it?"

"I would, but it's not really my birthday, you know." He picked up the small box and shook it.

"I'm early this year."

"What could it be?"

"I'm not telling." She sat back and smiled at him. "I hope you like it."

He pulled off the ribbon, slid the box out of the paper, and looked inside. "It's a key." He looked up at her. "The key to your heart?"

"Not hardly." She rolled her eyes. "I imagine the crew would say you'd need an ice pick to get into my heart, anyway."

"The key to Voyager?"

"You duplicated one of those the first day you were on board, I imagine."

"Second day." He grinned and took the last bite of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. "What could it unlock?"

"Doesn't it look familiar?" she challenged him. "You've used it before on an old-fashioned padlock."

"Padlock?" he frowned, turning the key over in his hand and noticing the number 47 etched into the brass disc of the key ring. "Did we use it on the holodeck?"

She nodded, her eyes shining.

"It unlocks the padlock on the Lake George boat house!"

"Exactly." She picked up her coffee mug in triumph. "The last time I survived a near-death experience, we celebrated with a delightful sail on Lake George, remember?"

"Yes, I do," he whispered, momentarily flooded with the memory of carrying her lifeless body out of their downed shuttle and struggling to make her breathe. However, this experience was just as bad. He was still haunted by the memory of her fixed and milky white eyes and icy skin at the Broden ashrm. He looked up at her with such pain in his expression that she immediately arose and circled the table, standing beside him and cupping his cheek in her hand.

"I didn't mean to upset you," she murmured, her eyes shining with affection. "I just wanted to do something to help us put this last situation behind us."

"I need more time to do that, Kathryn."

"I thought it would help us to take the boat out again. I want to lie on the deck and gaze at the stars. I want you to sing to me the way you did that night so long ago."

He sighed. "You want to forget, for a while, how hard life is out here."

"I want to simply enjoy being alive, Chakotay. I want to spend some time with my best friend."

"All right. I can get a bottle of cider, if you'd like," he answered, his voice thick with emotion.

"Not necessary," she crossed her arms and leaned back against the table. "I used the last of my rations on a bottle of champagne."

"Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with a champagne chaser," he laughed. "Now that's living."

She gave him a wistful smile. "I wish I could give you all the good things in life, Chakotay."

He stood up and pulled her into an embrace. They clung to each other for a few long moments, relishing the rare chance to be in each other's arms. When they pulled apart, both were blinking back tears.

"I'm not complaining, Kathryn."

"You never do." She smiled up at him, her heart overflowing with affection for the man who was so much more than a first officer to her. "You bring the key and I'll grab the champagne. I programmed a perfect evening for a sail on Lake George."

"Always ready to serve as first mate, Captain," he replied, gratified to hear her laughter.

"A tempting offer, I must say."

With that, they made their way to the holodeck and a rare evening beneath the stars.

The End


End file.
